


Flightless

by AbigailPickardWrites



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Death, Dictators, Distopia, Elements, Fantasy, Magic, Magic Powers, Migration, Murder, Original Fiction, Rebellion, Running Away, Wind - Freeform, flight, flightless, no magic, outcast, powers, super powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 21:51:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20682500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbigailPickardWrites/pseuds/AbigailPickardWrites
Summary: In a realm of magic, Elizabeth is the only one in her community that cannot fly. Everyone else has harnessed their magical power, but Elizabeth, though she has tried for 13 years, cannot fly. This earned her the nickname "Flightless" that seems to follow her everywhere. Now that she is 13, she must learn to fly to participate in Migration or be left to behind to die at the cold hands of winter. Can she ever fly? And what happens when the council that rules over Gargathorne, her home, begins to show its true colors? Who will believe her? And why does everything seem to lead back to the first person to fly in Gargathorne, Wendy Shores? She'll have to find the answers, and fast, to survive.





	1. Chapter Two

Flightless rolled over in bed, sunlight streaming through the window and into her eyes. She didn't want to get up, but it was hard to sleep since the people of Gargathorne were already awake and opening their businesses or flying out to the fields. She could distinctly smell the fresh bread waiting in the window sill of the bakery. It was a wonder how the baker got up and went to the mill to make his goodies so early.

Somewhere out the window, she heard Mrs. Kennet shoo some other kids away from her candy shop and scold her daughter, Bessie. Bessie protested that she didn't let John Marsh have any of the sweets, but Flightless and Mrs. Kennet knew better. The fact that Bessie had a huge crush on John Marsh was general knowledge to all the people in Gargathorne that paid any attention to the gossip the ladies shared. But Flightless was proud that she was the first to know of this information, seeing as Bessie was her best friend.

With a loud groan, Flightless lugged her aching body out of bed and opened the window to let in a breeze.

Bessie looked up from her mother and spotted Flightless. "Morning, Beth!"

Mrs. Kennet looked up from arranging lollipops and noticed Flightless up above. "Ah, good morning, Flightless! Hurry down here, we could use some help getting the shop ready!"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Kennet! Be down in a sec!" Flightless called. She smiled and bounded towards her dresser to yank on her clothes and braid her hair. Flightless scrambled down the ladder and opened the top of her door. She didn't even bother unlatching the bottom, just jumped over it and ran across the dirt road. Dust flew up as people flew by, swerving to avoid Flightless.

Bessie grabbed Flightless's wrist and dragged her into the candy shop. Mrs. Kennet's shop definitely wasn't a palace, just an awning that shaded a lot of tables and boxes of candies that ranged from lemon drops to gum to taffy that got stuck on your teeth for hours, but Flightless loved it.

"What can I do to help you, Mrs. Kennet?" Flightless happily offered her assistance. There wasn't much that she could do to help out in society, but she tried her best.

Mrs. Kennet looked around the room and pointed to a crate of chocolates. "Can you unpack that crate into that display there? Make sure you put it ice underneath so it won't melt."

"Yeah, I can do that. How much ice?"

"Oh, it doesn't really matter. I'll have to replace it once it starts melting anyway, and I can get it exact then. Thank you so much, Flightless." Mrs. Kennet hustled around and handed a box to Bessie. She buzzed around like a bee, stacking gumdrops like mountains and placing bottles of honey in rows. It wasn't long before the shop was restocked, redecorated, and swept.

Bessie smiled and put the dustpan in the closet. "Looks like a job well done to me."

"Yeah! So, what are your plans for today?" Flightless asked, dropping some crumbs outside and dusting her hands off on her jeans. Bessie shrugged and leaned back against one of the display tables.

Mrs. Kennet gave her daughter a pointed look. "You two be sure to keep out of trouble. The stunt you pulled yesterday is the talk of the town, Flightless."

Bessie looked at her friend, amazed. "She's right, everyone's talking about it. Especially Arizona Worthington."

Flightless made a face. "Arizona Worthington..."

"Now, you see here," Mrs. Kennet pursed her lips, "Arizona may be mean to you two, but if you are mean back, you're no better. And her father may be flight leader this Migration. You would do well to avoid meddling with her."

Bessie rolled her eyes and slumped a bit lower. "Alright, alright."

Mrs. Kennet was clearly not satisfied with that response, but she went over to the window to flip the "Open" sign and go to the front desk.

Now that her mom was gone, Bessie practically burst. "Beth, was it really as bad as everyone says?"

"What?"

"The council meeting, was it as bad as everyone says?"

"That depends." Flightless laughed, "What are they all saying?"

Bessie looked past Flightless at her mother, but Mrs. Kennet was selling some sugar sticks to a kid at the desk. The kid was counting his money agonizingly slow, trying to find the right amount. Bessie stifled a laugh as the kid shook his head and started recounting.

Knowing that her mother was busy with a slow customer, Bessie answered Flightless. "They said you stormed the council hall and told Master Wool that you are the only proper flight leader, then attacked him and guards dragged out. Some people said that you tried to break the windows, but that's only a few people."

Flightless's jaw dropped. "No! Why would I ever- no! Just... no!

"Good," Bessie chuckled, "I thought we'd have to run away as fugitives."

"Oh no," joked Flightless, "that would mean hours with you! I'd rather a life time's sentence in the holding compartments!"

"Ha, ha, very funny. Don't worry, we'd take Icarus with us!" Bessie played along with the joke well. She smiled at the thought of herself, Flightless, and Icarus Reign, three best friends trying to escape the council's judgment. The three had been together for a long time and had become best friends ever since they were four and Bessie gave them each a hard candy from her mom's shop. Ever since they had been inseparable.

Flightless shook her head. "Hours and hours with Icarus and you? I'd better hope I can outrun you guys."

Bessie scoffed, "You wish you could outrun me! Anyway, if you're not an enemy of the council, then what did happen?"

"I told them that the weakest aviator should be flight leader, but they didn't listen. Master Wool freaked out on me and ordered me to leave." winced Flightless. "And yeah, the guards did drag me out."

"I told you that they'd never listen."

"Yeah, Denis did too. And Jude." Flightless tried not to think about Jude. The image of his angry face screaming at her in a fragile moment was seared into her brain. Whenever his name came up or the thought of him drifted into her mind, she felt like she was going to cry all over again. It was bad enough that she cried in the council yesterday, but she would not cry in the middle of the candy store.

"Beth?" Bessie waved a hand in front of her best friend's face. "Beth? Elizabeth? Earth to Elizabeth!"

Flightless shook her thoughts away. "Sorry, Bess. Spaced out."

Bessie Kennet put her hands on her hips. Her sassy pose was amusing to Flightless, but Flightless said nothing of it. "Something is bothering you. Come on, out with it."

"I, uh," stammered Flightless, "I'll tell you when we have Icarus here, too. Now, do you want to go do something fun or do you want to stand around in your mom's shop?"

Bessie clearly wanted to know more, but when a sweaty boy that stunk of B.O. bumped into her to reach the popcorn bags, she was ready to go. The two pushed past the boys and girls of Gargathorne that wanted to get some sweets for the road and out the door.

"BE GOOD!" Mrs. Kennet called as they left, but the girls were already running down the streets of Gargathrone.

They finally stopped running when Flightless grabbed Bessie's arm and wheezed, "Too... fast..." When she had caught her breath, she panted, "Where are we even going?" Bessie shrugged. "Then let's decide!"

"We could go down to the river and catch tadpoles and crawdads. Or minnows, if you want." Bessie suggested and put her hands on her head to relieve running cramps.

"No," Flightless disagreed, "we did that the day before yesterday. Let's just find Icarus."

They walked through Gargathorne in search of the missing part of their trio. They asked all friendly people they passed if anyone had seen Icarus, but no one had seen him. He wasn't at any of the shops or at his house. Flightless and Bessie checked the river, the docks, the mill, the dairy barn, the meat production center, two of the three ponds, the main creek, the main barn, the hill, the vegetable areas, the fourth barn, and the fruit areas. Icarus was nowhere to be found.

Under a tree, Bessie finally slumped down into the grass. "We have looked, like, everywhere!" she took off one of her gladiator sandals and rubbed he sore foot, then switched to the other foot.

Flightless agreed and took off her combat boots to soothe her soles. She let her head rest against the bark of the tree. It felt amazing to relax. The idea of just resting was a relief, like when you find something you'd lost.

As she sat in the shade, finally letting exhaustion overtake her, Flightless looked up at the sky. A cloud floated by that looked like a dog, and Flightless found comfort in imagining herself up there, in the sky, letting her fingers brush clouds and wind whistle in her ears. Flightless could almost feel the drop when she imagined herself diving down and swooping back up in swirls and loops. How amazing it must be to soar up there like a bird.

"Beth, look!"

Flightless shook her thoughts away and looked at what Bessie was pointing to. Up above her head was a nest of baby birds with a mother delivering them food. Flightless found herself resenting this birds. They were everything she was not, and it was not fair.

Flightless turned away coldly. "Yeah. Cool."

Bessie put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pointed them out."

"No, no," Flightless laughed guiltily and shut her eyes, leaning back against the tree, "It's fine. I'll fly eventually! I've just got to keep being optimistic!"

"It's a wonder how you don't completely lose heart," Bessie commented and ran a hand through her black, curly hair. Her hair was unruly from running around and it was frizzy, making it go everywhere. Bessie grabbed a hair ribbon that matched her dark skin tone and checkered dress. It was her favorite dress, with tiny black and white boxes all over it, ruffled sleeves, a button up front, and a collar. Bessie especially loved the soft ribbon that tied around its waist.

Flightless felt a rush of wind and opened her eyes. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Bessie furrowed her brow.

"I could have sworn I felt a random gust of wind!"

"I didn't feel anything."

Flightless looked around the field once more, before sighing and closing her eyes again. She relaxed into the tree, but as soon as she was perfectly comfortable, someone grabbed her left shoulder and Bessie's right and yelled, "BOO!"

The two girls screamed and jumped back, only to see a hysterical Icarus Reign as he floated down from the tree. Icarus was clad in his usual gray t-shirt, jeans, and black, hightop sneakers. Bessie had always told him it was a boring outfit, but he never listened.

"Icarus! You scared us!" Bessie growled.

Icarus smiled and leaned against the tree, too. "I know, that's the point.

"How long were you up there?" asked Flightless, squinting up into the branches. How could she have missed him? They were just looking for the bird. 

"Not long." Icarus swiped Bessie's satchel and stole a candy. "But you should have seen your faces!"

Bessie gave Icarus her signature death glare. "Icarus, I swear, if you do that again I will stab you in your sleep!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Icarus put up his hands in surrender, fear evident on his face. "Sorry! No need to go to extreme measures!"

"Where have you been?" Flightless demanded. "We looked for you for forever!"

Icarus popped the candy into his mouth. "Dad made me muck out the horse stables."

Flightless gasped, "That's it! We can go exercise the horses!"

"Ugh," the frustrated Icarus groaned, "do we have to? That's not our chore!"

"Oh come on. We haven't done much all day, and I'm sure that whoever's in charge of that would be happy to be relieved of that duty today." 

"Fine, who's in charge of that?"

"I think it's Steven Marsh, but I'm not sure."

With a confused expression, Icarus laid down in the grass. He paused for a moment, thinking, but gave up. "Who's that?"

Flightless had to stifle a laugh, looking over at Bessie quickly before moving her eyes back to Icarus. "You know that grumpy old guy that lives in that brick house at the back of town? The one with that decrepit cat that's missing a leg?"

"Oh," the face finally matched the name in Icarus's mind, "Yeah! He tells people he's allergic to noise, right? Why in the world is he in charge of the horses?"

"Beats me!" Eagerly, Bessie jumped back into the conversation. "He never actually does any of the work. He always makes his son do it."

"Right, you'd know a lot about his son, wouldn't you?" Flightless smirked, teasing her friend.

Bessie's eyes widened as she hit Flightless's arm. 

Icarus looked back and forth between the two, squinting. "Um... Am I missing something?"

"Ic, you can't possibly be unaware of Bessie's hopeless crush on John Marsh. Anyone willing to lend an ear knows about it."

"You have a crush on John Marsh? Really?" Icarus sniggered, clearly indicating that Bessie could do better.

The flustered girl shook her head and crossed her arms. "No! John Marsh is..."

"Flawless, magnificent, stunning, miraculous, all words she's used describing him." Flightless grinned devilishly, enjoying joking with her best friends.

Bessie sputtered and tried to deny the accusations but only succeeded in confirming them. When she had gotten over herself, she glared at Flightless. "Weren't we going to go ride horses?"

"Yeah, I guess we were. Come on, it's a long walk."

Flightless and Bessie pulled their shoes back on, and Icarus handed Bessie her bag. They lugged themselves off the ground and started off through the grass to the path that ran through town. They went through the open area known as "The Yard" that hosted the council hall, holding compartments, and minor storage areas. They reached the fence that separated the animal grounds from civilization and stopped.

Flightless kicked a pebble and looked up at the tall fence with little splinters over its rough wood.

Bessie stood back, got a running start, and jumped into the sky. She was terrible at flying, and so was Icarus, but Flightless still envied the fact that they could fly in the first place. She watched Bessie ascend and dive over the fence, landing peacefully on the other side.

Icarus tensed and bent his knees to prepare for taking off, but stopped when he glanced over at Flightless, who was examining the fence to decide if she could squish underneath. She didn't like that option, considering the cow patty near the bottom. Then again, it would be awkward and painful to attempt going between the horizontal stretches of wood.

"Beth?" Icarus put a hand on her shoulder. "Want help getting over?"

"No, you probably couldn't lift me and fly safely." Flightless blushed and kicked another pebble. It landed with a squish in the hot cow patty.

Bessie leaned against the fence from the other side. "Maybe I could come over and help Icarus carry you."

As much as she didn't want to, Flightless refused. "It's fine, I'll go under."

It was clear to Flightless that they didn't want her to have to go under, but it was also clear that going under was her only option.

Flightless got down on her hands and knees and started rolling under. She arched her back to avoid the dung that was in the grass and held her breath. By some stroke of luck, she made it and tumbled into the taller grass of the field. She didn't mind, though. She liked the sweet smell of the fields and the sun on her back.

Icarus flew over in a much more graceful manner than Bessie, but stumbled during his landing and lost his glasses. Bessie picked them up and handed them to him, allowing him to put back on the dark frames.

The three finally set off over the hill and made it to the stables. John Marsh, a blond boy with chocolate eyes was washing a pinto horse off just outside the stables, floating above the horse to get a better angle.

Flightless smiled slyly at Bessie, who promptly elbowed her in the ribs.

"Hey, John, right?" Flightless sparked up a conversation with him as their small friend group approached.

"Yeah," John barely looked up from the horse he was washing. "Do you need help with something?"

Icarus stepped up. "We just wanted to offer to exercise the horses today."

This got John's attention. He raised his eyebrows and said, "Seriously? Yeah, by all means! Make sure you get 'em all!"

"We will!" yelled Flightless, who was already running to the stables. She grabbed a random horse and was mounting when Icarus and Bessie were just getting horses.

Flightless waited impatiently for the others to catch up, and when they did, she took off. The horse was pretty fast, at least on her standards. The team raced through the animal grounds, scaring off some chickens and cattle. Beaming, Flightless laughed and closed her eyes, imaging that she was flying. That was the real reason she offered to exercise the horses, she could imagine that she was soaring with the sun high and birds unmatched by her aviation skills. She threw out her arms with a whoop but grabbed on again as the horse made a turn. They rode in circles for a long time, but eventually Flightless made her way back to her friends.

"Beth! We totally lost you by the time we reached the chicken coop!" Icarus complained, turning his horse around to go back to the stables. The others followed suit.

"Sorry, got carried away!" said Flightless sheepishly and patted her horse's neck. They passed a pile of brush and Flightless thought she saw a rustle somewhere inside and became suspicious. She tried to ignore it as best she could, but the funny feeling, however, did not go away until they had switched through all the horses and were thoroughly exhausted beyond belief. Only then did Flightless surrender to tiredness and trudge back through the animal grounds with Icarus and Bessie.

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the ground. Flightless squinted in the light to see her friends.

"I swear," Bessie moaned, "I am never riding another horse. Ever. That's a promise!"

"Agreed!" complained Icarus, and tried to fix his dark blond hair, which was messy from the ride. Then again, it was rare that Icarus actually care for his physical appearance, so his hair being messy was normal.

Flightless painfully lamented, "Even I am tired of riding."

"What?" Icarus gasped and stopped messing with his hair. "Really? You are always up for riding."

"I know, that'll tell you how drained I am."

"Tomorrow, let's just go to the creek in the woods and sit around because I think that I'll be sore all over," Bessie suggested. She put a hand on her forehead to block the sunlight. She felt a particular heat on her face, one that was not comfortable. "And I think I'll be sunburned, too."

Flightless slung an arm over Bessie's neck. "Don't worry, we can look like tomatoes together."

Icarus held out his arms to examine his fair skin. "That'll make three of us."

Laughter and mirth filled the afternoon air as they walked back home.

*

Flightless sat waiting for the soup over the fire to heat up for dinner. She smelt the fumes and nearly burst from hunger. How hungry can one thirteen-year-old get?

She shut the downstairs window and struck a match to light a few candles instead. Even if she was certain she would starve, it was an enjoyable end to a perfect day. Flightless began to reflect on all that had happened that day, from helping Mrs. Kennet to searching Gargathrone for Icarus to relaxing under the big oak tree in the grasslands to horses. It all made her heart hurt, knowing that Bessie and Icarus would do those things alone after Migration. Then again, they weren't very good aviators, either. Maybe they would be lost during Migration, like Flightless's parents. The scenarios in Flightless's mind grew worse and worse. She couldn't believe that she was actually going to be dead in a few months.

"No," Flightless chided herself, "I will fly before then. I will! Don't be discouraged, Flightless, don't be discouraged! You... you can do this. It'll just take time."

Flightless took heart in these words and started to ladle soup into a bowl. Outside her window, the wind went from restless to calm, and a breeze gently swept through the house.

Flightless jumped up from the table. "I thought the upstairs window was closed!" She bolted upstairs as the wind intensified and slammed the window shut. "Great, now there's probably a mosquito in here."

The agitated Flightless trudged down the ladder's steps to continue eating. Outside, the wind slowed and rushed through the streets of Gargathrone, sweeping the smells of the outdoors with them. The wind rushed through open windows, making curtains flutter and throwing girl's hair into their faces. It may have been invisible, but the wind was incredible that night. Not incredible as in strong and scary, but simply beautiful.

And somewhere in Gargathrone, the wind stirred up buried memories in a man's heart, memories he tried to hide, but seemed to resurface whenever Elizabeth Everheart came to view. The man sensed the magic in the air, making him stiffen during dinner and make a hasty excuse to go to his room. He went out to the balcony to survey Gargathrone but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The only sign that anything was ever wrong was the flicker of his candle just before the wind blew it out, tinting the dark with the gray of smoke.


	2. Chapter One

Flightless threw open the loft window of her small home to greet the day. The people of Gargathorne flew through the air around her, tending to their duties.

She raced down the steps of the ladder leading to her doorway and latched the top half of the door shut. She had just finished an amazing book. Sure, she'd read every book in Gargathorne's old library twice, but she still got a rush when she relived of the adventures in them.

Flightless sprinted as fast as she could down the dirt paths until she finally swung on the doorframe of the library. The librarian looked up. "Flightless! Good to see my favorite reader!"

Flightless laughed, "Whatever. How can you pick a favorite?"

Denis smiled, "Anyone with a reading passion is my favorite."

"Well, when you've got as much ground time as I've got, reading is your lifeline."

"Oh, Flightless," he chided, "keep your chin up."

"I will. Oh! Did you hear? The council is meeting today."

"Yes, yes, I heard." He called over his shoulder, disappearing behind a shelf.

"They're talking about Migration. They have to appoint a new flight leader, now that the last one died." 

"Is that so?" Denis didn't sound like he was listening anymore.

"Yeah. It'll probably be Master Wool. He's the best aviator. But that's stupid, you know? They should make the weakest flyer the one in the lead so that no one falls behind." Flightless peeked through the shelves at him, noticing that he was completely enveloped in something.

"Sure..." He trailed off and began sifting through papers. 

Flightless glared at him, but he didn't notice. "Yesterday, I saw my long lost cousin get eaten by a badger with seven rows of teeth and a gambling problem." 

"Uh-huh," Denis replied. 

"It was scarring. I'm pretty sure I'll need intensive therapy after that. Maybe some medieval stuff with scary tools and heroin. Do you think that's a good idea?" 

"Yeah..."

Flightless leaned against a bookshelf, a tad annoyed. "Maybe they'll cut out my brain and put in a pickle jar. Then they can grind it up into meat and make spaghetti from it. You can have some of my brain spaghetti if you want." 

"That's nice..." 

Loudly, Flightless blurted, "I think I should be flight leader."

This finally got Denis to look up from his paperwork. He trudged around the shelf to stare at Flightless with intenseness in his old eyes. "...What?"

"Flight leader. I think I should be the flight leader." She restated, trying to look more confident than she felt.

"Flightless... you can't fly in the first place. That's why your name is Flightless." He said gently.

"No," she protested, "my name is Elizabeth, that's just a nickname. I mean, Flightless is kind of my name, but... whatever. I just think I'd make the best flight leader, y'know?"

"No, Flightless, I most certainly do not know. What kind of suggestion is that? That is-"

"Preposterous? Absurd? Crazy? Yeah, I know. But I think it will work, so I'm going to the council today to discuss it." Flightless mused, flipping through a book. "Anyway, gotta run. Bye, Denis!"

Flightless ran out the door and towards the council hall before Denis could get in another word. According to Jude, one of the council members, the meeting wouldn't be discussing the newest flight leader for another 45 minutes. That meant 45 minutes of trying to fly.

Flightless climbed up a pile of stones that had been moved from the gorge at the back of Gargathorne's land yesterday. Like she had done so many other times, Flightless readied herself and jumped, concentrating on one thought: flight. But just like every time that she had attempted to fly, her feet came back to the ground and she stumbled over a few rocks. Flightless went back up the pile and jumped again, trying with all her might, but she just fell to the ground and skinned her knee. With a wince, Flightless skimmed her fingers over the ripped skin and felt her eyes sting and nose burn.

"Don't be discouraged, Elizabeth," she said to herself, "you can do this. Just get up and try again."

So Flightless tried again, and again, and again, each time landing in the dust. But she set her jaw and tried again.

At the same time, the council that governed Gargathorne and all the aviators that lived there sat in a round room on chairs that were beautifully carved of oak. On the highest chair sat Helmer Wool, the current Master of Gargathorne. Helmer was a well-built man with sharp facial features and multiple rings on his fingers. He was looking harshly at Jude Humpback, who was spaced out. Jude was thinking very deeply, staring down at an elaborate marble floor.

"Jude, is something bothering you?" asked Helmer Wool.

Jude looked up from the floor. "Pardon?"

Helmer smiled. "I asked if something was bothering you, as you were staring at the floor."

Jude looked at the faces of all of his fellow council members. Some seemed curious, others irritated. "I apologize, I was thinking of... of Flightless."

Murmurs broke out among the council members. Flightless was a sensitive topic, highly controversial and the council tried to avoid her completely as if she didn't exist. This was difficult, however, as Flightless was rather clumsy and trouble seemed to pursue her sometimes. It had always been clear to the council, though no one said anything, that Flightless was not a favored aviator, mainly because she was not one at all. The idea that she was almost 13 and had never flown was upsetting, considering that they had never encountered an aviator that could now, well, aviate. 

Discussing Flightless had been even more dreaded by everyone (particularly Jude) because with Migration coming up, it was possible that she would have to be left behind. Everyone in the grand hall knew this, but leaving this matter buried would have been preferred.

Though each finely dressed council member knew the answer, one asked, "What of Flightless, Jude?"

"She is almost 13 and her birthday will come before Migration. That means she must fly on her own. But..." He rested an elbow on the polished armrest of his chair and put his head in his hand.

Lewis Vane finished Jude's sentence, "But she hasn't flown yet. And she will not before Migration."

"So what do we do?" Henry Thompson inquired.

"Well it's obvious," Helmer droned, "we all are thinking it. She will not come on Migration, she will stay here during the winter."

"But then she will die! The whole reason we have Migration is because of the fatally cold temperatures here in winter. She needs to come with us down south to our other town." cried Jude.

Sighing, Helmer Wool said, "Jude, that is unfortunate, but it's the law. Just look at her!" The council looked out one of the huge windows that towered over the men and women, stretching up to the domed ceiling. 

Outside the window, they could see Flightless leaping off the pile of rocks and spreading her arms before tumbling to the ground, covered in dust and her chocolate hair tangled. She was bleeding from her knee, but she didn't seem to notice as she jumped again, trying pitifully to fly. 

"She town calls her Flightless for a reason! She is the first aviator that simply cannot fly. We must leave her here; she cannot come with."

Jude looked at the faces of the council members with desperation. "But she's just a young girl! We cannot abandon her here!"

"Jude, I know you have a soft spot for her, but now that she is 13, no one can carry her. She has to fly, it's the law!" Amber Browse told the distressed man.

Jude ran his hands through his dark hair. "Then change the law! Make an exception! We cannot do this to her." The council looked at him with sympathy.

"Jude, we are your friends. We know this is hard and we don't want to tell you this, but this job isn't always pleasant." Helmer Wool said. 

He hadn't noticed that Flightless was no longer at the pile of rocks. 

Flightless paced outside the heavy doors of the council hall, anxiously wringing her hands and moving to one side whenever she passed a lifesized statue of some woman who must have been important

She stopped her frantic movements and looked back at the door. What if she came in at the wrong time? 

Swallowing dryly, she pressed her ear against the looming wooden doors to listen to the conversation inside.

Inside the hall, Jude felt himself tear up. "So you think that we should just leave Flightless here to freeze or starve or be attacked by animals during the winter? That's not fair! Please, she's just a child. I care about her!"

"Care about her?" laughed Henry Thompson, "Jude, really? We know you sympathize for her, but she is not important. She cannot fly out into the fields to help farm, mine at the gorge, pick fruits that are high up or contribute to society in any way. She does nothing, but we sustain her. I'd hardly call our relationship symbiotic. Can you not see that?"

"Of course I see that, Henry. But she will die."

"And why should we care about that?" Amber Browse demanded, "Look, we all have a tiny bit of sympathy for Flightless, but we need to put that aside and look at the law. The law says that all aviators must fly on their own during migration once they turn 13, at the latest. Anyone under 13 can be carried by a talented aviator. Flightless will be 13 during Migration, so she must fly or we must leave her."

The people of the council nodded and agreed with her. Rowan Civil added, "You cannot deny the law, Jude."

"Alright, let's vote." announced Master Helmer Wool, "All in favor of making an exception for Flightless?"

Jude and a couple other council members raised their hands.

"All in favor of forbidding Flightless from migrating?"

"Wait!" interrupted Jude. "If she can fly in time for Migration, she can come, right?"

Helmer Wool rolled his eyes. "Yes, Jude, but she will never-"

Jude spoke so quickly he stumbled over his words a bit. "So make the decree say that if she cannot fly by Migration then she cannot come."

"Fine," Helmer growled, "if Flightless is unable to fly by Migration, then she will stay here for the winter. All in favor?"

Many hands went up around the room, and Helmer raised his hand as well. "Alright then. It is official: unless Flightless can find the ability to fly by Migration, she will stay here in Gargathorne for the winter. Now, let us go back to discussing flight leader. Mavis, I believe you were saying something about previous flight leaders...?"

"Thank you, Helmer. As you all know, past flight leaders have been the best at flying in their time. So, I ask the council, who is the best aviator in Gargathorne?"

Lewis Vane spoke up, "Well, there are three possible contenders. Myself, Gregory Worthington, and Master Helmer Wool."

Rowan Civil hummed and remarked, "Well, Gregory Worthington is not a council member, he is awesome. Sorry, Lewis, he and Master Wool are the best options. And they are much younger than you, which is better since that flight leader is a lifelong position."

Lewis nodded. "I understand completely, Rowan. So-"

Just then the council doors burst open loudly, making all of the council members jump in their seats. They turned to see Flightless being dragged by the arms into the hall by two guards.

"Let me go! Ow, that hurts my arm! I wasn't doing anything wrong! Stop! Hey, let me go!"

"Silence!" Ordered Helmer Wool.

Flightless grit her teeth as the guards took her into the center of the circle that the council members sat in so that they all could see her. She kicked and struggled, but the guards forced her to her knees so that she must look up at Hemler Wool. The guards bowed briefly to the Master of Gargathorne but stood, gripping Flightless's shoulders so hard that she was sure that they would be sore later.

Jude was looking at Flightless in a way that parents do to tell their kids that they are in big trouble. 

Helmer looked at the guards. "Don't grip her so hard. What is she going to do? Fly off?"

Chuckles. The guards loosened their grip but did not let go.

"Thank you," Murmured Flightless, refusing to meet Helmer Wool's eyes.

Helmer ignored her and addressed the guards. "What happened?"

"We caught her listening to the council meeting through the doors, sir." said one.

The second nodded. "We don't know how long she was there."

Helmer Wool frowned down at Flightless, mind spinning. How much did she hear? "Dismissed."

The guards hurried out to go put an end to whatever else was occurring in Gargathorne that was against the rules. The council hall's door swung shut and boomed as it closed. Silence filled the hall as the whole council stared at Flightless, on her knees before them for what seemed like the millionth time. But this was different.

"Flightless, how long were you listening?" asked Jude from her right.

She looked up at Jude hesitantly. "I don't know. Not too long..."

"What was the first thing you heard?" demanded a council member that no one really acknowledged, and Jude found himself searching for that woman's name.

Flightless swallowed, fighting back tears. "That... that you all want to leave me here for the winter." The people in the room shared guilty glances. Jude squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore what was happening.

Helmer Wool didn't notice the change in mood. "Did you know that council meetings are confidential and that it is forbidden to listen in?"

"Yes," Flightless seemed to sink even lower- if that was possible.

Helmer Wool glared at the girl. "Did you know that you were listening in on a meeting?" The answer was obvious, but Helmer wanted the council to have all the facts.

"Yes, but-"

"Did you know that you are dirtying the floor of this hall?" Helmer sneered.

Council members looked indignantly at their leader. Jude opened his mouth to speak, but Helmer held up his hand, a signal to be quiet. Finally, Flightless lifted one hand from the white stone. Her palms had dust and dirt on them from falling to the ground, and now it was on the floor. Then she looked back at her shoes. Mud was all over them and now smeared on the cool marble. Lastly, she saw the droplets blood on the ground from her skinned knee.

Helmer was angry, and couldn't refrain from saying, "Did you know that, Flightless? Did you know you were making such a mess?"

"I... no. I do now." Flightless finally let a tear slip and it plopped onto the floor.

"Great," Helmer threw up a hand, "Now it's wet, too."

Jude grit his teeth and stood from his chair. "Master Wool! That was completely unnecessary! Flightless is not-"

"It's fine, Jude. Don't bother." Flightless angrily wiped her eyes and stood from the floor, head held high, and looked Master Wool right in the eye.

Helmer's smile faltered, but he quickly covered for it and spoke in an authoritative voice. "Flightless, because you were eavesdropping on a council meeting, I think that you should spend a week in the jails. All in favor?"

"Wait, Master Wool! We should listen to what Flightless has to say, this may be more than it seems." Grace Palmer, a kind-hearted woman interjected. "I find it hard to believe that Flightless was breaking the law for the fun of it."

Another female on the council expressed agreement, saying, "Yes, yes, me too."

"Flightless, go on, explain your side of the story." Urged Jude.

Flightless sighed. "I wanted to come to the council to discuss something, and I wasn't sure if I would be interrupting when I entered, so I was just waiting for a good opportunity to come in. I wasn't trying to go against the law."

Grace clapped her hands. "See? There's no problem here! Flightless didn't do anything. Now, honey, what did you want to discuss with the council?"

"Flight leader," Flightless clasped her hands behind her back awkwardly.

Lewis Vane laughed loudly along with some other people in the expensive building. "You wanted to discuss flight leader? Why on earth would you want to discuss flight leader with us? It has nothing to do with you!"

"Lewis is right, you have no business discussing flight leader." Amber Browse cackled. "You should leave, Flightless!"

"No!" she shouted.

The laughter in the council hall stopped. Cold quiet settled over everyone and glances were exchanged that clearly said that Flightless had just made a big mistake. Master Wool sat a bit taller in his chair. "No?"

"You heard me- No! As a citizen of Gargathorne, I have a right to request an audience with the council, and I wish to talk to you all about the flight leader!" Flightless looked around the large room defiantly. Her eyes finally met those of Helmer Wool, daring him to stop her.

"Alright, Flightless, go ahead. Enlighten us." Helmer Wool's eyes narrowed. The whole council was looking between the two of them, sensing the tension.

Flightless began to walk around while speaking. "In the past, the leader of the Migration has been the strongest aviator, the most talented person. Behind them are the next strongest, and behind them the next strongest, in a V formation. At the back of the V are the weakest. Because of this, the weaker ones fall behind and are lost. They die in the wilderness because we don't wait for them, like my parents. This has simply been fact for as long as we can remember, and this never has been viewed as a problem in our society. Well, I think it's a problem. And I have a solution! If we put the weakest aviator in front and the strongest in the back, everyone can keep up and no one will be lost during Migration!"

"The weakest should be flight leader? That's preposterous!" cried Amber Browse.

"And absurd!" added Lewis Vane.

Even Jude disagreed with her. "Flightless, that's crazy!"

"Assume for one moment that we did go through with this (which we won't), who would be flight leader?" Rowan Civil raised an eyebrow sarcastically.

"Well, that's obvious. The worst aviator in Gargathorne is me." she looked around the council hall nervously.

Henry Thompson looked at the people on either side of him and anxiously looked back at Flightless. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying that I should be flight leader."

With that confirmation, everyone started speaking at once, immediately shooting down the girl's idea.

"Absolutely not!"

"You can't even fly!"

"Stand down, Flightless."

"You're supposed to stay here!"

"That is the craziest thing I've ever heard!"

"You? Flight leader? Give me a break!"

"No!"

"Get out, Flightless."

"SILENCE!" Bellowed Helmer Wool and all the voices stopped. Helmer was breathing heavily and the look in his eyes was almost animalistic as he bared his teeth and hissed, "No, you will not be flight leader. You, Flightless, are the most useless aviator here! We are changing nothing! The strongest will lead, as always."

"But people die!"

"I DON'T CARE! THE MIGRATION IS NECESSARY, AND PEOPLE MUST DIE ALONG THE WAY! HOW ELSE DO YOU EXPECT TO ROOT OUT THE BAD GENES, FLIGHTLESS?"

"MY NAME IS ELIZABETH, NOT FLIGHTLESS! DO NOT CALL ME FLIGHTLESS!"

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OUT OF TURN IN HERE! GUARDS!"

Five guards ran into the hall. Two grabbed Flightless roughly and started dragging her out. Another two pointed spears at her as they left, and the last followed behind. Flightless kicked and screamed on the way out. The council doors banged shut behind them, enveloping the hall in silence again.

Helmer finally realized he was standing and sat down painfully slow, breathing heavily. He clutched the armrests, digging his nails in. Each council member sat, holding their breath and watching the leader in fearful silence. Never before had they seen him so angry, even where Flightless was concerned.

It was a few more moments before Helmer hissed, "Council dismissed."

"But, sir, we haven't decided on a flight leader." Amber Browse whispered.

"Council... dismissed..."

Amber looked down. "Of course, sir."

Everyone grabbed their possessions quickly and went home, leaving Helmer in the council hall alone, still angry and with his blood pumping.

*

Flightless was far from the council hall, still with the five guards that restrained her. The one holding her left arm finally spoke to her. "What did you do, Flightless? Master Wool was furious."

"I didn't agree with him on something, that's all."

The guard on her right let out an exasperated sigh. "You have got to learn to hold your tongue! Master Wool is the most important man in Gargathorne. You shouldn't go about angering him."

"I know, I know," she grumbled.

"Alright, we'll let you go here. Just try to keep out of trouble, all right?" The right guard truly meant it, he didn't like seeing Flightless in poor circumstances, no one really did.

Flightless chuckled, "I can't make any promises. Trouble is everywhere, I just tend to wander into it."

Grudgingly, the men released her and let her run back home. She ran through town, past the fountain in the center of the city, a few market stalls, and people who were floating around, exchanging gossip. When she passed the library, Denis's voice stopped her.

"Flightless! Wait!"

She stopped and bent over, gasping for air from running. When she regained composure, she said, "Hello, Denis."

He looked at her like it was obvious that she should continue her sentence, but he had to say, "How did the council meeting go?" before she answered.

"It could have been worse." she shrugged, entering the library behind him. Flightless jumped up and sat down on a table.

"Well? What happened?" He poured her a glass of water and handed it to her.

"I was dragged in by the guards and the council thought I was eavesdropping, then I proposed my ideas. No one liked them. Master Wool got mad and then he got the guards to take me out." Flightless gulped down the water and Denis refilled her glass.

He put his head in his palms and ran his hands through his thinning, gray hair. "That sounds like it went about as bad as it could have gone."

"Well, I almost got put in prison for a week."

"How does that make it any better?"

"I could have actually been put in prison for a week."

Denis collapsed into a chair. "Oh, Flightless..."

Flightless hopped off the table and patted the old man's shoulder. "Glass half full, Denis. Glass half full."

The poor old man just shook his head, got up, and left.

Flightless happily drank the last of her water and ran out of the library, down the lane and towards her house. She unlatched the top and shoved open the lower half of the dutch door. Flightless left the top open for a nice breeze and set down the book she had picked up that morning in the library. It had been a pain carrying it around all day.

She grabbed some bread from the cupboard and sat down at the table to eat. Her home wasn't much, just a tiny building with a fireplace, table, some seating, a bed, and storage. It was musty and the bed was just a mattress, but it was home, and Flightless had found ways to cope with leaking rainwater.

The door flung open suddenly, causing Flightless to jump in her seat. She calmed down when she realized it was just Jude.

"Flightless! What were you thinking?" fumed Jude Humpback.

Flightless blinked. "Jude, what are you talking about?"

"You made Master Wool furious! And you wanted to become flight leader? What kind of idea is that? Not to mention the part where you were seized by guards... twice!"

"I was just-"

"NO! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? YOU MADE ME LOOK LIKE A FOOL AND YOU EMBARRASSED YOURSELF! YOU CAN'T FLY, FLIGHTLESS, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO ACCEPT THAT?"

Flightless clenched her fists and felt tears build- again. "Jude, I didn't mean to-"

"STOP TALKING! CAN'T YOU AT LEAST PRETEND TO BE NORMAL AROUND HERE? WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO ARROGANT?" yelled Jude. His face had gone red, but he was done scolding Flightless. Jude had taken on the role of a father of some sorts for Flightless, meaning that he looked after her. They did not live together, but they still had a parental relationship. He just didn't want Flightless getting in trouble, but she made that hard sometimes.

"Are you done yelling?" Flightless asked meekly.

Jude closed his eyes in a frustrated way. "Yes. Cut this out. That's all." Jude turned on his heel and marched out of the house. As he left, he looked up at Flightless's sad face, but ignored it and hurriedly flew home while the wind was picking up.

Flightless slumped down against the wall and drew her knees to her chest. She was finally able to sob freely. The weight of all that had happened crashed down on her. She had made the leader of Gargathrone made at her. She couldn't save anyone from the Migration. She had made Jude disappointed.

Worst of all, she was going to die. And there wasn't a single thing she could do. The hope that Flightless had always clung to was rapidly fading out of sight.

"I will fly..." she whispered, "I will fly, I will fly, I will fly." She whispered those words over and over, the only things that kept her sane. "I will fly. I will fly."


	3. Chapter Three

Icarus ran to Flightless's side to help her up.

"I'm okay," Flightless assured him and picked herself up from the ground, ignoring a dull ache in her shin.

Bessie looked at her sympathetically. "Are you sure? That was a hard hit."

"Yeah," the optimistic girl replied, "I'm good."

Icarus looked her over and frowned. "Maybe we should call it a day, Beth. You've been trying to fly for hours. This is much longer than normal, and I don't want you to overwork yourself." He brushed off some dirt from Flightless's upper arm.

Flightless took a deep breath, regaining her determination. She set her sights on the tree that she kept jumping from in an attempt to fly and started to climb up. The rough bark scraped her hands and dug into her skin, but she climbed up to the lowest branch to jump again. Her blue eyes examined the ground, then closed as she slipped off the branch. It did no good, she landed with a thud on a tree root that jabbed into her ribs. With a wince, Flightless picked herself up to climb again.

Bessie pushed a curl out of her eyes and exasperatedly stomped over to Flightless. "Elizabeth Everheart, you need to stop this. You are hurting yourself and only making it worse. Just call it a day and move on!"

Sorrow crashed over Flightless and seemed to drown her, filling her lungs and seeping through her skin. She hadn't told either of her friends about the sentence that the council had put on her yet. Every time the conversation came near that topic, Flightless was able to redirect the discussion and avoid it completely. It wasn't a matter of being ashamed, it was just that Flightless didn't want to put that weight on them. "Bess..."

"What?"

"Never mind. I just don't want to stop." And that was half the truth. That would have to suffice because Flightless ignored her friend's attempts to talk sense into her and continued jumping off that branch.

But Flightless continued to be flightless.

*

Flightless patiently waited for the baker to come back with a new loaf of bread.

"And 'ere you are, Flightless! Have a good one!" The baker handed her the loaf in a paper sack in exchange for a couple of coins.

Flightless looked down at the hastily scribbled list. Now, she needed to pick up some fresh veggies from the storage area. She sighed heavily and walked down the streets of Gargathrone towards The Yard, a large clearing with some small buildings scattered about. It was a cool morning, and the wind felt chilly, which made Flightless hug the sack of warm bread to her chest.

A sharp voice, like a dying screech owl, cut through the cool world's fibers and seemed to make the wind even more unforgiving. "Oh my, it's Flightless. Funny seeing you here."

A scowl crossed Flightless's normally cheerful face. "Arizona Worthington..." Flightless stopped holding the loaf close, letting the cold air seep into her skin and turned around to face the smug face that she loathed. "What do you want?"

"I'm offended, Flightless!" An expression of mock hurt crossed Arizona Worthington's face. She placed a hand over her heart, but a look of hate flashed through her vibrant green eyes. "Do I have to want something to talk to you?"

"You always do."

Arizona twirled one of her golden curls around her finger and smirked. It took everything in Flightless's power not to say something mean and run. "I just wanted to know where you're going, that's all."

"None of your business," Flightless growled, "just shove off."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll make you shove off!"

Arizona began to walk around Flightless, like how a hawk would circle its prey. "Oh, getting feisty, are we? You know, you are so cute, Flightless. I think it's a adorable when you try to seem scary. Or when you try to fly."

"I'll fly one day, Arizona!" snarled Flightless, sounding certain. And she was certain. If there was one thing Elizabeth Everheart believed it was that one day she would fly. "And when I do, you'll feel foolish that you ever said that!"

Arizona couldn't help it- she snorted. "Yeah, right. Even if you do fly, you'll be as bad at it as Bloated Bessie"

For Flightless, that was the last straw. "Take it back! Don't talk bad about Bessie!"

Arizona was proud- she had definitely struck a nerve and was delighted that she had so much power over Flightless's emotions. "No. It's true, that cow needs to lose some flab."

"Do not talk bad about my friends." Flightless's tone had dropped from a yell to a low and sinister whisper. Her eyes narrowed, as her hands shook. The hatred that ran through Flightless's eyes was unnerving, but Arizona never knew when to stop.

"Friends?" Arizona doubled over laughing. "I didn't know you actually had any!"

The brunette was without words as her bully mocked her. When she had finally selected a few sentences, she sounded a lot timider than she felt. "I do have friends."

"Yeah?" Arizona Worthington stood a little taller, feeling accomplished. She had finally pushed Flightless into submission. "Then who? Bloated Bessie and that sorry excuse for a boy that hangs around near you? You have got to be kidding, Flightless."

"He has a name!" Flightless protested, clenching her fists and glaring up at Arizona.

Arizona's disgusted expression looked down on the livid Flightless. In a tone positively dripping with sarcasm, Arizona said, "Oh, do tell."

With a shaky breath, the victim mumbled. "Icarus! His name is Icarus."

The corner of Arizona's pink lips twitched upward. She examined her beautiful nails and chirped, "Didn't quite catch that, Flightless."

"Icarus!"

"Right. Well, how about this. You give me some of your spare change, and I'll address that boy as if he's worth a name. Deal?" Arizona leered. Her bargain was one that Flightless would not make, especially because she knew that Arizona would not keep up her end. It would be just like the time Arizona promised not to trip her all the time, or the time she promised that she wouldn't throw her in the pond, or the time she promised not to mock her clothes anymore. Flightless was familiar with Arizona's deals, to say the least, and had decided that it was not worth it. Not to mention it was a stupid deal, anyway.

"No way. I'm not sinking that low." Objected Flightless. She crossed her arms as best as she could with the loaf of bread still in a paper bag. "Why do you even want my money? Your father's rich!"

Arizona tossed her hair over her shoulder and huffed, "I have my reasons."

Flightless shook her head, lowered her eyes and walked away, Arizona yelling insults after her. She just squeezed her eyes shut and ignored the pain those words inflicted on her. After all, she had to get some vegetables.

*

"Come on, Beth, pick up the pace!"

"Icarus, I'm trying. I just don't want to go..."

Icarus groaned and flopped onto the floor. "But Beth," he whimpered, drawing out the E in Beth, "you promised."

"I know," Flightless whined, "I'm already regretting it!"

"But Beth, you-"

"I know, Ic!"

"You two are like two little children. Really." Bessie interjected from Flightless's kitchen. Icarus and Bessie had guilted Flightless in attending a competition of aerial tricks in the grassy plains that afternoon, and as much as Flightless loathed sporting events, she had to go. Of course, aerial tricks was not the main sporting attraction in Gargathorne by any means. The central sport was racing, an extreme and popular competition that Flightless dreaded even more. For her, a quiet night at home sounded like much more fun.

Flightless pulled her signature optimism out of the depths of her being. "At least we aren't going to air brawling." Air brawling was the second most popular sport in Gargathorne. It was a violent and very testosterone inducing game that typically included blood, broken bones, and a serious need for medical attention in the Medic Center.

Bessie approved. "Exactly. See, this isn't so bad. You'll love it once we get there, don't worry." 

Flightless glowered at her, but opened the door and started towards the grassy plains, Bessie and Icarus at her sides. The two teens that could fly went over the fence into the open area and Flightless rolled under with much more ease than last time. There, in the center of the field, were blankets spread out on the ground for seating. A judging panel sat at a table, paper, quills, and ink at the ready. Competitors were lined up off to the side, stretching and preparing.

Bessie, Icarus, and Flightless sat down on a faded purple blanket in the center. The three waited in silence until the announcer let the people of Gargathorne know that the competition was beginning. It was a blur of twists, dives, and snacks to Flightless. After all, what was the point in watching others fly around like crazed ballerinas?

The blur of boring was interrupted by a rustle in the bushes. Flightless seemed to be the only one who noticed, everyone else was fascinated by a trick that the performed nicknamed, "The Fire Ring". She shook her head, trying to ignore what she saw, but another shift in the leaves was all it took before curiosity overtook her. With a glance towards her occupied friends, Flightless slowly crawled towards the bush. Could this rustle be related to the one she saw when she was riding horses?

Gently and with much hesitance, Flightless pushed some branches aside. Her eyes widened. Nothing was there.

"Must have been the wind." Flightless shrugged and went back to her friends to finish the show.

*

Flightless, along with Bessie and Icarus, stood atop Icarus's home, trying to help Flightless fly for the millionth time.

"Beth, we've been at this all day! This is ridiculous!" Bessie whined. "Just call it a day!"

Flightless shook her head exasperatedly. Her friends didn't get the severity of the situation. But Flightless supposed she couldn't blame them, after all, she didn't tell them what was happening, anyway.

Icarus was skeptical, to say the least. He could always tell when something was off with his friends, and he knew that there was more to the story than met the eye. "Is something bothering you? This isn't normal."

Flightless stopped and sat down on the edge of Icarus's roof. "I guess, yeah."

Bessie looked up from fiddling with her bracelet, suddenly intrigued.

With a grimace, Flightless looked between her friends. Sighing, she began to explain what she overheard at the council meeting. The story of her condemnation tumbled out, a mess of choked words and teary explanations. Flightless concluded her story with a solemn nod, and finally looked up and Bessie and Icarus.

"You're joking, right?" Icarus finally managed.

"I wish."

Bessie squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples, trying to clear her head. She simply could not wrap her mind around the idea of Flightless being left behind that winter. "Beth, why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Flightless looked down, ashamed. "I don't know. I'm sorry..."

"It's fine, it's fine, but we need to get you to fly! Icarus, any ideas?" Bessie asked hopefully.

"Well..." Icarus hesitated, "Yes, but it's risky. And stupid. Really, really, stupid."

"Sounds perfect! Let's do it!" Cheered the raven-haired girl. A devilish smile crossed her face, her features lighting up.

Flightless set her jaw and lifted her head a bit. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose. If it'll make me fly, I'm so in!"

*

"I am so out!"

"Beth come on!"

"Are you trying to get me killed? No way! I'll end up just being a stain on the ground!"

"Beth-"

"No, Icarus! I can see it now: I'll do it, plummet to my death, SPLAT! My body won't even be left to have a proper burial! Forget it."

Flightless glared at her two best friends, tapping her foot. Opposite her, Icarus and Bessie were attempting to persuade their friend to do something crazy.

Bessie narrowed her eyes. "Elizabeth, if you don't fly, you'll freeze. So you are going to do this, you are going to fly, and you are going to do so without complaining! Are we clear?"

"Woah, chill!" Flightless winced and held up her hands defensively, "Alright, I'll do it. But you're going to live with the guilt of killing me!"

"I'll manage."

Icarus stepped in. "Okay, Beth, listen. Sometimes when aviators have a hard time unlocking their flight, it is triggered instinctively when they are in mortal peril. Then they can access their abilities and work hard to learn to fly. That's what happened to me, so maybe it'll work for you! So your job is to leap off this cliff and fly."

Timidly, Flightless inched away from the cliff's edge. "Ugh, this really is a stupid plan."

"Don't worry," laughed Icarus, "if you get to close to the ground, Bess and I will catch you."

"Yeah right," she said under her breath, "you two can't carry me over the fence, that'll never work."

If either of her reckless friends heard, they didn't show it. "Go!" they commanded in sync.

Flightless backed up, took a deep breath, and charged towards the cliff edge. The wind raced in her ears, the end drew nearer, she prepared herself as best as she could, and then it all stopped. With her toes hanging off the edge, Flightless froze.

"Nope, nope, nope, I'm not doing this." Flightless shook her head and gulped. She inspected the ground below, all cold stone. A few pebbles toppled down the gorge and clattered to the bottom. Suddenly, Flightless felt her friends shove her and then the bottom approached again as Flightless fell off the edge. She screamed and clawed at thin air, grasping blindly for anything to grab on to, but nothing was within arm's reach. Her hand brushed a rock and her nails scratched lines into it, but she could not stop her fall. The bottom came closer and closer, and Flightless realized she was not going to fly.

Bessie and Icarus realized that, too. They shared a look of panic and dove after Flightless, rocketing downward. They tried to grab hold of her, but it did no good. Flightless just plummeted.

The stone came closer. The air whistled. The wind stung her eyes. She shut them tight, bracing herself for impact.

But the impact never came.

When Flightless dared to open her eyes, she found herself in the arms of Jude Humpback. Jude paid her no mind as he flew back up to safety. When Jude had set her down on the ground again (a great relief to the terrified girl), Bessie and Icarus threw their arms around her.

"Oh my gosh, I thought that you'd die for sure, Beth!" Icarus released her and nervously ran a hand through his tousled locks.

Bessie hugged her tighter, then let go. She made direct eye contact with Flightless, conveying her anxieties with her eyes. "We did, that was so stupid of us! None of us should have done that."

"She's exactly right," Jude growled at Flightless. He began his lecture by yelling at the poor girl and being as intimidating as possible. Not the best approach to a near-death situation and a traumatized child, but it was the path that Jude took. "You never should have done that! What were you thinking? That's just it, you weren't! You can fly without hurling yourself off a cliff with the worst aviators, besides yourself, in Gargathorne to catch you! Good god, Flightless, did you honestly think you would fly that way? Your name is Flightless for a reason: you can't fly! This- this- you know what, it's not worth it. I mean, what's the point? You're not listening anyway! You're going to do something else just as dumb, right? What's next, Flightless? Are you going to try to drown yourself? Will you decide it's brilliant to try to impale yourself? Will you charge into a council meeting and yell at the master of Gargathorne? Oh wait, you already did that!"

Flightless felt the waterworks start brewing and tried to interject. "Jude, I-"

"NO! CAN'T YOU JUST THINK FOR ONCE? YOU ARE SO LUCKY THAT I WAS PASSING BY! GO HOME OR SOMETHING, JUST GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Teary-eyed Flightless and her ashamed crew trudged off into the distance, leaving Jude Humpback fuming.

"She is so stupid!" Jude felt his own eyes sting and a few tears slip. "She's gonna get herself killed... God, she is so stupid!"

The distressed man fell down against a tree, placing his head in his hands to soothe his anger. Jude Humpback had no idea how right he was.

*

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Flightless threw the small ball against the wall of her home again, letting it bounce back to her.

"It's not my fault!" She said to herself. "Bessie and Icarus thought of it!"

Thunk.

"They're the ones that deserve all the blame!"

Thunk.

"If Jude wants to yell at anyone, he should yell at them!"

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Again Flightless caught the ball, but she let it roll out of her hand and off the edge of the loft. She turned over in the bed to shake her head. "What am I saying? Bessie and Icarus didn't mean any harm, and I agreed to it anyway."

Flightless sighed sadly and pulled a pillow over her head. The only thing she wanted to do was sleep, but that did not work out. At the same moment that Flightless was about to fall asleep, there was a knock on the door.

"Ugh!" The sleepy brunette complained, "Come in, I guess."

Prying open her eyes, Flightless recognized Jude immediately. She shut her eyes and tried to slow down her breathing, but Jude wasn't fooled.

"I know you're awake, Flightless. You just told me to come in."

Flightless groaned and sat up she huffily peered over the loft edge, then went down the ladder agonizingly slow. Finally, she slumped down at the kitchen table across from the council member and said, with the utmost irritation, "What?"

"Look, Flightless-"

"Elizabeth. And don't talk to me like a child."

"But you are a child, dear." Jude felt his patience waning.

Flightless grit her teeth. "That doesn't mean you have to dumb down your speech when you talk to me. Just because children are younger than you does not make them incompetent. Young doesn't always mean foolish. And do not call me dear! "

"Flightless, be reasonable! I just wanted to apologize."

"You're not doing a very good job of that, now are you?" Flightless defiantly turned away from him, crossing her arms.

Jude took a moment to collect himself again. He counted silently to ten and began to speak to Flightless. "I shouldn't have spoken to you so unkindly. I'm sorry. I know that you were desperate to fly, and I don't blame you. I didn't stop to think that if you didn't fly, you would probably not survive the winter, either, so it didn't really matter that much. Now, I'm here to help you fly."

"I know, I should have listened to you, too. Charging off a cliff is stupid, regardless of whether or not I'd survive the winter, so I forgive you. I just... I really don't want to die." Flightless whispered. As she spoke, the wind outside seemed to pick up its pace, howling a lonesome tune.

Jude glanced at the window but turned his attention back to Flightless. "Why not?"

"What do you mean why not? Obviously, I don't want to die because... because of Icarus and Bessie. I'll leave them all alone." The wind outside continued its melancholy song. "If I die, who will look after my house? If I die, who will help Bessie and Mrs. Krew set up her shop? Who will tell Arizona Worthington to knock it off when she's being a bully? I know my life isn't as valuable as Master Wool's or yours, and I may not have a family that would miss me. I may not have someone that will be completely destroyed if I'm gone, but I still want to survive. I don't want to huddle in here in the freezing cold, savoring the last crumbs of bread from my pantry. It's terrible to think of my skin turning to ice. I don't want to imagine Bessie and Icarus running to my home after migration and throwing open the door only to find a corpse leaning against the wall, lifeless and ugly. The idea of them sitting at my grave, bringing flowers from the fields and wondering what I thought of in my last minutes, of them forgetting that I'm gone and waiting for me to open the window in the loft, but remembering that I won't, these thoughts hurt. All of it's so dreadful. I don't want to think about it, and I don't want to die!"

Flightless was aware that tears were beginning to show, but Jude didn't notice. He was much more focused on the wind outside, which had picked up considerably. He slowly turned back to Flightless and said, "Well, it's a shame all of that will happen. After all, you're never going to fly."

Choked, Flightless questioned, "W- what?"

"You're never going to fly. You're pathetic. Can't you just listen! Your name is Flightless for goodness sakes! You are noting but flightless." Jude growled.

Anger bubbled inside Elizabeth like a storm. "How dare you? You just marched into my house to apologize and end it with insulting me?" Once again, the wind changed into a raging fit of rushing air.

Jude's eyes widened as he looked from the window to red-faced Flightless. "I didn't mean it, I just wanted to see if it worked."

"To see if what worked?" Flightless interrogated disbelievingly.

"Flightless, have you ever noticed that the wind seems to get more intense when you're feeling one emotion very strongly?" Jude scanned her face for some kind of sign that she knew what he was talking about, but he got none.

She unattractively scrunched up her face. "No, of course not! That's ridiculous. You are terrible at excuses."

Jude raised his eyebrows. He simply picked up a glass from the counter and let it fall to the floor where it shattered.

"Jude! I loved that glass!"

"Listen to the wind." the man told her.

She rolled her eyes but started to listen. Jude was right, the wind had become restless again. "That proves nothing. It's just a coincidence."

"Did you notice that wind started going nuts when you fell off that cliff? It damaged a few trees and blew away a bunch of grain. The miller is furious." Jude pressed on. He knew he was right about the wind and Flightless's connection.

"No, I was a bit busy falling to my death, thank you very much."

Jude searched his memory for another example. "What about when I just showed up here and you were mad at me. The wind was odd then, and it got worse when you started crying."

"Well, maybe today is just blustery." Flightless reasoned. She didn't believe a bit of Jude's nonsense. The wind? Respond to her emotions? The idea was absurd. "Have you been at the tavern, Jude?"

"Of course not. What about after the council meeting? The wind was acting weird then!" Jude frantically tried to prove his theory, but Flightless wasn't listening.

Jude looked around the room until he spotted it. The perfect motivation. It was risky, but Jude saw it as worth it. He walked across the room and grabbed the tiny glass robin that had belonged to Flightless's mother before she died. It was the only thing Flightless had of her mother, and she cared deeply for it. She always displayed it safely on top of the cabinets.

"JUDE, NO!" Flightless lunged for the bird, but Jude ran up to the loft. Flightless had toppled over a chair and watched as the glass bird fell. It came towards the wood floor where it would shatter, faster and faster. There was no time for Flightless to lunge for it or do anything, for that matter. All she could do was shout and reach out her hand towards the petite robin. Flightless's hand was a few yards away, she didn't touch the bird, but the robin stopped falling. It hovered midair before gently lowering itself to the ground.

Flightless brushed herself off and grabbed the bird, returning it to it's home atop the cabinets. "Jude? What the heck was that?"

"That, Flightless, is what I've been trying to tell you," Jude explained. "You have power over the wind."

"But, no one has powers other than flight. That's the only magic that exists, everyone knows that!"

Jude heaved a deep sigh and sank down into a chair. "Not exactly, Flightless."

"Jude you have some serious explaining to do. You had better get started now."

"It's a long story, and it's getting dark out."

"You cannot just drop a bomb like that then back out of it. Trust me, I have plenty of time to hear this."

Jude's features became grave. "If you insist. But prepare yourself, it's not a happy tale."


	4. Chapter Four

Jude began his story in a cheesy way.

"It all started long ago, back during the beginning of Gargathorne, with a woman named Wendy Shores. Wendy Shores was-"

"The first aviator, right?" Interrupted Flightless. She thought back to the cold stone statue outside the council hall and when she skimmed the plaque on it.

Jude nodded in approval. "Yes, Wendy Shores was the first aviator. She founded Gargathorne after she met a family of aviators called the Wools. One of these people, Aldwin Wool, teamed up with Wendy to create Gargathorne. In this town, all information was shared, including that there was more than one type of magic. You see, wind magic also exists. But people with wind magic don't associate with those that possess flight, and that's why you've never seen them. Anyway, Aldwin Wool became obsessed with gaining more power, so he killed Wendy Shores in her sleep and took her position as the ultimate master of Gargathorne. He knew that wind magic was superior to flight magic, and he refused to seem weaker than those possessing the power of wind in the eyes of the people, so he made the discussion of any other type of magic illegal. He had spies that listened into the houses of citizens to ensure that parents never told their children of wind magic, and when the original generation was gone, the people in Gargathorne had no idea that any other type of magic existed. And Aldwin Wool kept it that way. The only person he told was his son, who became the next master when Aldwin died. His son decided that he needed help governing the growing population of Gargathorne, so he established the council. The men on the council were the only ones that knew of wind magic. The secret was passed down until today, meaning that I was told this awful truth when I joined the council. And now, you know,"

Flightless's eyes bugged out of her skull. "You're making that up, right?"

Distraught, Jude sighed and rested his head on the table. "I wish, Flightless, I wish,"

"Wait, Jude, are you saying that the council and Master Wool have been lying to the people?"

"Shh, Flightless! Those kinds of questions will get you killed! In fact, if Master Wool knew that you knew of wind magic, you would also be killed, so don't go off and tell your friends, or he'd kill them, too." Jude's weary eyes gazed down on her, clearly showing that he was regretting telling her anything. His shoulders slumped and his hair seemed grayer already, matching his paling complexion.

A huge weight seemed to be crushing Flightless's lungs. The council was corrupt, and Master Wool was not all he seemed to be. He was a vengeful leader that craved power, just like his ancestor, Aldwin Wool. So many questions were swimming around in Flightless's brain, like a pack of rabid animals.

"Jude, does that mean... I have more powerful magic than anyone in Gargathorne?" An incredible exhilaration spread through Flightless's body. It was such a great contrast to when she was powerless and pathetic, and it was addicting.

"Well, yes," Jude held up his hand before Flightless could get too excited, "but you cannot use it properly, so it is almost useless. Right now, I believe that your magic is only effective instinctively, meaning that unless something big is happening, you will not be able to use it, and even then, you cannot control it. That makes it dangerous, especially now that you are aware of it,"

Even more questions than before raged in her head. "Wait, I don't have flight magic,"

"No," said a solemn Jude, "you do not,"

"So that means I can't fly, no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I literally can't fly,"

"Yes, that's correct,"

Flightless said, "But then, I'll be left here to freeze or starve during the winter! But it's not my fault! I can't help it! Maybe if I just explain the situation to Master Wool, he'll understand and will let someone carry me!"

Jude narrowed his eyes at Flightless. "Are you that incompetent? He will execute you if he knows you possess wind magic, or if he knows that you know that you aren't an aviator,"

"Oh," she mumbled.

"Flightless, you're missing the point! You have wind magic and you need to learn to control it so that you don't hurt someone on accident!" Jude scolded, "Now, I'm going to the library to see if there are any books or documents on wind magic,"

"Why would there be anything on wind magic in the library? It's open to the public, and if there was something, either Denis or I would have read it by now,"

A ghost of a smile danced over Jude Humpback's lips. "Not that library. The council library,"

"Council library?" Flightless rolled her eyes. "There's no such thing,"

"Of course there is, you just have to look in the right spot!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jude was clearly annoyed. "It means that there is an entire labyrinth of archives, libraries, storage rooms, and high-security prisons under our feet. And the entrance is open only to council members, from the council hall. It should not surprise you, Gargathorne is a civilization built of secrets,"

"Seriously?"

"I could not make up all of this, Flightless. Now, I am leaving to look for anything to help you, I will be back tomorrow morning, and we can figure out what to do from there." Jude promised. He gave her a pat on the back and quickly left, shutting the door behind him. The door opened once more and Jude stuck his head in. "Oh, and Flightless, be sure to get a good night's sleep." Then he shut the door and headed off without another word.

The bewildered Flightless was left to comb her hair and hastily change into her nightgown. Flustered, she lay down to go to sleep, but sleep did not find her. All she should focus on was the tale that Jude told her. Wendy Shores... the first aviator. Something didn't seem right about Jude's story, and Flightless had a feeling that it was connected to Wendy. But eventually, Flightless put her rebellious thoughts out of her mind and drifted into an uneasy, dreamless sleep.

*

"BETH! WAKE UP!"

Flightless jolted awake at the sound of a female voice. "Wha..?"

"ELIZABETH ANNE EVERHEART, WAKE UP THIS INSTANT! DO NOT MAKE ME BREAK INTO YOUR HOUSE AND DRAG YOU OUT OF BED!"

Groggily, Flightless got up and opened the loft window. "Good morning to you too, Bessie,"

Bessie stood below Flightless's window, hands on her hips and glaring up at her friend. "Hurry up and get down here!"

"Will do, Bess! Be down in a minute!" Flightless threw on clothes and toppled down the ladder. She shoved some food in her mouth, tripped over her own two feet, and ran out to help Bessie and Mrs. Kennet.

The girls quickly started arranging the plethora of sweet foods, including chocolate coins, sour pops, and fizzy sodas.

"So, Beth, anything new going on in your life? Something fun? Any big events? Boyfriends? Better clothes?" Bessie asked. She put multicolored chocolate bird eggs in a flower design.

"Ha, ha, very funny. No, nothing big going on in my life." Flightless lied. She felt a stab of pain lying to Bessie but suppressed the urge to go home and curl up under a blanket. It felt impossible to face her after lying. "How about you? Anything interesting?"

Bessie Kennet spontaneously combusted. "I thought you'd never ask! So I was flying over to the fruit trees to pick up a few apples for mom's apple pie, and guess who I crashed into? John Marsh! I started to fall, but he caught me, and then he said sorry and smiled at me! Can you believe it?"

"Your mom made apple pie?"

"Beth, focus!"

"Right, yeah, I'm so happy that you and Prince Charming had such a romantic run in. Can I have some pie?"

Icarus suddenly flew in and made a dramatic pose. "You called?"

"Your name isn't pie,"

"No, not that, I meant the Prince Charming part, it's supposed to be funny."

"But it wasn't,"

"I know. It's just that you mentioned pie afterward and it kind of ruined it, you know? I mean- oh never mind." Icarus gave up and started sorting chocolate bars into the originals and the ones with peanuts.

Bessie rolled her eyes at their behavior. "Honestly, you two. Icarus, quit trying to be funny. It just doesn't go well when you try,"

Flightless looked up. "Pie?"

"No, I said try! Ugh, just keep working on those lollipops,"

The three continued sorting in silence until Mrs. Kennet bustled over and handed them each a couple crates of candy sticks. "Bessie, could you and your friends put these over there on that shelf, you don't have to do anything special, just line them up,"

"Sure, mom," Bessie accepted her crate and started heading over to the display, Flightless and Icarus trailing behind her.

They set the sticks up one by one. Flightless could have sworn she saw Bessie pocket some of them but turned a blind eye. It was her mom's shop, after all, it couldn't have been that bad.

Icarus put the last candy sticks in place. "Done!"

"Thank you, dears." Mrs. Kennet gave them each a quick hug and beckoned for them to follow her into the Kennet's house. "Would anyone like some apple pie? I just baked it yesterday!"

Flightless's eyes lit up. "That would be amazing, Mrs. Kennet!"

*

Flightless waved goodbye to her best friends and headed home. They had decided to go swimming in the Gargathorne River, and now a bath was in order.

Grinning like an idiot, Flightless opened her dutch door and walked into her home, only to see Jude, hardly containing his aggravation, leaning against the kitchen table.

"Flightless! How are you? How was your day? Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, actually, we went down to the river and- Oh, right, I was supposed to learn my magic with you. Sorry, Jude, I forgot,"

"Seriously? How does something like that slip your mind?" Jude fumed, throwing his hands up in the air.

Flightless looked down at her muddy feet. "Sorry..."

Jude pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to breathe and counting to ten. He finally spoke after a long silence. "It's fine, I'm fine, it's all fine. Let's just start working on this, okay?"

"Yeah, okay,"

"Good. Now, I found a couple of books that try to explain wind magic and read through them last night. It's very similar to learning flight magic, so I'm just going to do my best. Alright, Flightless, let's just start with trying to blow out this candle." Jude set a candle on the table, struck a match, and allowed the wick to catch fire. He flicked his wrist, letting the match blow out, and tossed it in a cup of water. "Try to focus. Stand up, close your eyes, and focus every ounce of energy on that candle. Do not break your concentration and do not give up until that some wind blows that candle out."

Flightless did as she was told. She shut her eyes and would not stop thinking about the candle. She imagined the breeze sweeping past the flame and the way that the fire would flicker and be gone. She could practically smell the smoke that would come out in wisps when she succeeded. She felt the air around her stir and heard a slight whoosh. Her eyes opened to see the candle was no longer burning.

"I did it, Jude! I did it! Look, I blew it out!" Flightless jumped up and down; her smile was so big that it almost wasn't natural.

"Yes, yes," Jude chuckled, "I see it. Good job. Now, we're going to try doing that again. It will be easier this time now that you've already done it. We'll keep doing this until you can do it instantly and easily." He lit another match and touched it to the wick.

Once again, Flightless shut her eyes and concentrated. Minutes passed with no avail, but finally, she heard the sound of wind blowing and opened her eyes. The candle was not burning.

Jude lit it again. "Now this time, try doing it without closing your eyes,"

Flightless's dull blue orbs only looked at the fire that danced on the candle's tip. It took longer than last time, but eventually, the candle was extinguished.

The two continued this exercise until Flightless was able to do it without hardly thinking about it. Jude finally decided that they were done with that after Flightless instantly put it out while also reading a book.

"Alright, let us move on. Now, I want you to attempt to use your wind and make it stop a falling object, as you did with that glass robin. I am going to sit in the loft and drop this ball and your job is to stop it or hand it back to me when it falls, okay?"

A firm nod was all Flightless gave. Jude awkwardly climbed the ladder and then swung his legs over the edge. He held up the ball and let it fall.

Flightless focused on the ball as best as she could and tried to envision the wind coming up underneath the object and let it lower gently to the ground, but it didn't work. Instead, the ball bounced and rolled under the kitchen table, so Flightless got down on her hands and knees to retrieve it. She handed it back to Jude meekly.

Jude smiled and patted her shoulder. "Do not worry about it, Flightless. I did not expect you to get it right away. Let us try again,"

Jude dropped the ball again, but it didn't go over any better than their last attempt.

Despite her best efforts, Flightless was unable to stop the ball the next twenty times. She finally leaned back against the wall and shook her head. "This is pointless. I'm getting nowhere,"

"Come on, try again. You can not just give up like that, Flightless! Catch the ball with your wind," He let it drop again.

Flightless focused on it as it fell, and finally, she was able to stop its descent. Without breaking concentration on the ball, she walked over and put her hands underneath it. Then she allowed the wind to release it. It fell into her hands, and Flightless handed it back up to Jude.

"Whoa, that was cool! I love this magic!" She exclaimed. Flightless was hardly containing her excitement.

"Good job. Now let's do this again until you're just as good at this as you are at putting out candles,"

*

That night, Flightless was dreaming. She saw herself running, sprinting, away from something behind her. The thing reached out and grabbed her in its claw-like talons. They were sharp and cut through her flesh. Their strength was unimaginable, dragging her through the dirt in the dark forest, into the shadowy trees. Flightless clawed at the bloody ground, leaving scratches where her nails helplessly dug in. But she was not the only one, other lines were scratched into the ground from previous victims. The monster was laughing with the laugh of Helmer Wool as it took her to her death. She could see bones and bodies littering the area. The bodies of Jude, Bessie, Icarus, Mrs. Kennet, Denis, and others that she has seen in Gargathorne were scattered about, covered in a thin layer of frost.

"Still love your wind magic, Flightless?" The thing mocked.

"No, no, no!" Flightless cried, desperate to live.

But the monster just laughed and dragged her deeper and deeper into the abyss of darkness.

Flightless sat up in bed, sweating and breathing heavily. The horrific images that had disrupted her sleep were still flashing through her mind. Scared and tired, Flightless went downstairs for some water before going back to sleep.

*

"Just go talk to him, Bessie. Honestly, you're making a big deal out of nothing." Flightless remarked. She didn't look up from the novel she was reading, but she knew that Bessie had slumped down against the tree they were sitting under.

"But Beth, look at him. He's flawless! How am I supposed to approach him?" Bessie whined.

"I don't know," Flightless sarcastically said, "how about, 'Hi John, how are you?' And then go from there,"

Bessie shook her head dejectedly. "But he's so-"

"Perfect? Amazing? He's not a god, Bessie, he's a human being, like anyone else. There is no reason you shouldn't be able to talk to him,"

"Fine," she caved, "but you have to come with me,"

"No. I'm reading,"

"Elizabeth Anne Everheart, I command you to put that book down, get up, and come with me to talk to John Marsh!" Bessie looked down at Flightless with the intensity of a hurricane and let her lips form an angry scowl.

Flightless immediately set the book down and stood up to follow her friend. Bessie was adjusting her dark curls and smoothing down her checkered dress as they approached, constantly fiddling with something in her appearance. Abruptly, she turned to Flightless.

"How do I look? Do I look okay or good or what?"

Scanning her appearance, Flightless nodded. "Maybe fix your locket, the clasp is not in the back." She reached over and took the golden chain in her hands to adjust it. The locket really was beautiful, with a small gold oval on the end, decorated with small gemstones and containing a picture of Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus. Whenever Bessie wore it, it brought out the golden flecks in her eyes.

"Okay, so on a scale between one and ten, ten being fabulous and one being hideous, how do I look?"

"10,"

"You're just saying that to get me to shut up,"

"JUST GO!" With a big shove, Flightless pushed Bessie over towards John Marsh.

John looked up and brushed some blond hair out of his eyes. He awkwardly smiled at the two girls and gave a small wave. "Uh... hey?"

"H-hey, J- John! How are you doing?" Bessie stammered, turning red in the cheeks.

"Fine." He gave a short response, and after a long silence, said, "How are you?"

"G- good, good!"

Another long pause.

"So, did you need something, or...?"

"Oh," Bessie exclaimed, "no! I just, yeah,"

The lengthy and awkward silence came again. Bessie sighed and scratched an itch on her arm. John kicked a pebble. Flightless looked around, refusing to make eye contact. To say that the conversation was uncomfortable would be like saying that a blue whale is just a big fish.

Finally, Flightless had enough of Bessie and John's nonsense. "So, John... are you going to kiss her or not?"

"WHAT?!" The two others screamed in sync.

"Kidding, kidding, relax. Anyway, Bessie, we have to go help your mom, right?"

"I- um, yeah, yeah," she agreed, "S- see you later, John,"

He was blushing a fierce red and refused to look up. "Yeah, see you around,"

The two girls hurried back to the tree. Bessie collapsed underneath it next to Flightless, who picked up her book and promptly began reading again. But Bessie had other ideas. She snatched the book away and glared at Flightless.

"Hey! Give me back my book!" Flightless tried to grab it, but Bessie held it higher. Flightless swiped at the air, trying to grab it, but Bessie was quite a bit taller.

"No way," her best friend growled, "Why would you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Tell John Marsh to kiss me!"

Flightless rolled her eyes and kept reaching for her book. "Okay, first off, I didn't tell him to kiss you. I asked him if he was going to. Second, what's the big deal anyway? It's not like you didn't want him to kiss you,"

"The big deal is that now he knows I like him!"

"Bessie, everyone knew. Including John. It's so obvious, other girls talk about it all the time,"

Bessie knew that Flightless was right. She handed her back her book in surrender. "Yeah, you have a point there. Fine, whatever. I still think that you're annoying."

"Oh, you love me somewhere deep down," Flightless teased.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever,"

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of a summer day and relaxing. Then, out of nowhere, Icarus jumped and screamed, "BOO!"

Bessie and Flightless screamed, and in her moment of panic, Flightless accidentally summoned a gust of wind that threw Icarus back. He hit a tree and collapsed at least ten yards away. He was motionless and Flightless could see some blood on his arm.

"Icarus!" The two shouted, and ran over.

They turned him over, and Flightless saw the full extent of the damage. He was scratched up, and was bleeding in lots of wounds all over his body. His left arm was clearly broken and he had a gash on his forehead that spilled crimson liquid all over his hair.

"Look at that," Bessie pointed to some shredded skin, "the tree didn't do that. Whatever that wind was, it must have been strong. It literally ripped up his skin!"

"HELP!" Called Flightless, desperately looking around the area, "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!"

A small crowd of people flew over, gathering around Icarus's unconscious body. A woman pushed through them, saying, "Excuse me, excuse me, please move, I can help, excuse me!" She was thin and blonde, with kind eyes and a motherly presence.

"Someone please give me something to stop the bleeding, like cloth!" Bessie immediately grabbed the sash on her dress and ripped it off, leaving crude strings hanging and completely ruining the dress. She handed it over and knelt down beside Icarus. The woman wrapped the cloth around his head and tied it tightly. "Someone please fly to the Medic's Center! We need to get a stretcher and a team out here immediately!" A few people took off.

Flightless sat down on the ground next to him. "M- ma'am? Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know, Flightless. I hope so," She answered sadly.

*

The next few hours were a blur to Flightless. She remembered the medic team flying out with a stretcher and taking Icarus away. She remembered Bessie taking off after them, flying the fastest she ever had. As for Flightless, she sprinted all the way across Gargathrone, never slowing, never faltering. Burning sensations in her legs were the least of worries. Her memory didn't go much further than that, the rest was just a mess of medics and waiting. They had taken Icarus away, and a hollow feeling had ripped its way through Flightless's heart and into her gut. The absence of the trio's third member hung in the air like a death sentence, looming over their heads.

Flightless sat next to Bessie in the Medic's center. The cold stone building stank of bleach and blood as if someone had died and the universe tried to scrub the death away with cleaner. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think of death when Icarus was in such a bad state.

Sniffling, Bessie brushed her hair away from her eyes for the millionth time. It had always been one of her nervous ticks, the last time Flightless remembered her doing that was when she told them about her sentence during the winter. She was leaning forwards, elbows resting on her knees and head in her hands.

"You okay?" Flightless asked quietly as if her voice would shatter the strength she had summoned.

Bessie looked up, eyes red and flyaway hairs falling over her face again. "Yeah. I'm okay. It's Icarus I'm worried about,"

Flightless placed a hand on Bessie's shoulder, trying to comfort her friend. "Hey, it'll be alright. Ic's a fighter. We know he's a fighter, he's always pulled through things worse than this,"

"Yeah," Bessie laughed weakly, clearly not believing it, "he'll be okay. I'm overreacting,"

Bessie didn't say anything after that, leaving Flightless to her own thoughts. She swallowed, but her throat was just as dry as before. She had lost control, she had hurt Icarus. It was her fault that Icarus was hurt, and she could blame no one else. The image of him being thrown back and hitting his head against that tree kept playing over and over in her brain like it was stuck on rewind and she couldn't stop it. Sickening, that was what it was. Sickening. Guilt closed off her throat and she found herself struggling to breathe, struggling to think. Choking back a sob, she sat back into the chair, forcing herself not to cry.

Just when she thought that nothing could get worse, the steel door to the Medic's Center opened, and Jude Humpback entered the waiting room. A stout medic with a walk that was more of a waddle than a walk came forward and asked him what he was doing.

"The council wanted me to check in, apparently a young boy was injured earlier today?" He replied.

"Yes sir," she hastily replied, wringing her hands, "Icarus Reign, Xavier Reign's boy?"

Jude sucked in a breath. "Yes, I know who Icarus Reign is. Is Flight-" He looked around and spotted Flightless, making brief eye contact before looking back to the nurse. "Never mind. Could you- ah- explain the incident?"

She nodded and started explaining how a sudden gust of wind had thrown him back. At the mention of wind, Jude looked back at Flightless, who silently nodded. A hasty good bye, and then Jude marched over, took Flightless my the wrist, and dragged her outside.

Before she could get a word in, Jude hissed out his angry speech. "Flightless, what were you thinking? I told you to be careful with that magic of yours and now look what you did! Icarus Reign is hurt and it is solely your fault!"

"I didn't mean to! He-"

"Didn't mean to?" he growled, "Didn't mean to? That is a terrible excuse. Who knows how bad his head trauma is and it is your fault! Or do you not comprehend that?"

Flightless felt tears brim, but she refused to cry. No, Jude didn't deserve her tears. "You think I don't get that? I know full well that my best friend is hurt and that it is my fault! I do not need you to barge in here and tell me that!"

"Apparently you do!" He argued, growing angrier every moment, "Because you do not seem to be taking this as seriously as I do! Tonight- sundown. I will be at your house and we are going to keep working on your magic, no matter how late we have to work. You are a hazard! You are dangerous, a safety risk, and-"

"I'm not trying to hurt anyone!"

"Do not use that excuse! In fact, go home now! Go to your house and stay there so that you do not cause any more problems,"

"But what about Icarus? I want to hear if he's okay when the medics-"

"No! Go!"

"JUDE-"

"GO!"

Hurt and furious, Flightless turned on her heel and ran off towards home, a mild windstorm picking up. Happiness was crumbling around her. It took all of her resolve not to cry. She shut the door of her home, leaned against it, and slid down until she was sitting. Alone with her thoughts once more, Flightless thought of Icarus, of Jude, of Bessie, and of her magic. Suddenly, wind magic didn't seem so great anymore. What would Icarus say if he knew Flightless did this to him? Would he decide not to be her friend anymore? Would he tell the town her secret, get her executed? What would he do? And Bessie! Flightless imagined her being afraid, wanting nothing to do with her and her weird magic.

"No," she whispered softly in the grim silence, "no, they can't leave me!"

In that moment, she decided not to tell her friends of her obscurity or how this was her fault. Though it made her sick, she would not tell them that secret. It came at too great a price.

*

Sundown: a knock on the door.

Flightless opened the two halves of the door and let Jude in, though anger still pulsed through her veins. "Icarus. Is he okay?"

"Yes," Jude said absentmindedly, "he will be fine, with a bit of time. Did you not hear that?"

"No, considering you quarantined me,"

"Ah, I see," was his only reply.

Flightless waited a moment, tapping her foot. Then, she said, "I'm sorry, I was rude. But right now, let's just fix my magic so that I don't hurt Icarus again,"

"Glad to see that you are finally seeing sense! Now, I want you to try to summon a ball of wind. in your hands." He instructed, and opened one of his books over wind magic. He thumbed through the pages, closed the book, picked up another and continued flipping.

Flightless doubted that it would work, but she shrugged and did as she was told, picturing the wind there. It took a plethora of attempts, but somehow it was easier than the last time she tried to do anything with her magic. Soon, she could sense the energy of swirling wind.

Not losing focus, she said, "Did it! Now what?"

Jude looked up from his book and stood. He walked over to the cabinet, footsteps thumping against the wooden flooring. He took a glass from the cabinet and set it on the table with a clink, stepping away from it. "Throw it at the glass,"

"That'll break it!"

"Yes, I am aware of that,"

"We seem to be breaking a lot of my glasses with this whole training thing..." Flightless grumbled but obeyed. The wind shot forward, breaking the glass on her table. The two continued to do this with more durable things until Flightless could summon the balls quickly and Jude could toss the item in the air for her to hit it. She slowly got a better grasp on her emotion-related magic, was able to summon enough wind to knock Jude over, and could carry things around the room using wind underneath them to assure they wouldn't fall.

When Jude was satisfied, he set off back to his home. Flightless, however, went up in the loft and flopped down on the bed, emotionally and physically worn out.

*

Jude Humpback flew through the street of Gargathorne quietly and slowly, breathing in the night air. The cool, crisp oxygen flooded his lungs and cleared his mind of the day's events.

He stopped and hovered for a moment when a breeze blew by, relaxing in the calming atmosphere. Cicadas and crickets sang out loudly, their music ringing through the countryside. Jude landed silently on his feet, deciding to walk home to lengthen his journey. As he moved down the dirt path, he stopped and looked back at Flightless's house.

"Oh, Flightless," he whispered to himself, and yet to her, "please be careful." He sighed mournfully, his breath turning to fog in the cool air. Turning back, he continued home, worried for the safety of the girl he had come to think of as his own daughter.


	5. Chapter Five

Skipping stones bounced across the sparkling pond and sank beneath the water. They bounced once, twice, three times, then disappeared in the shimmering blue liquid. Flightless reached for another in a small pile she and Bessie had collected and skipped it, eyes following it as it raced along the surface and sunk. She painfully looked down. The two hadn't spoken more than a few unimportant words to one another, and the wall that built itself between them weighed heavy on her shoulders.

"Bess, are you mad at me?"

Bessie gave a bitter laugh and picked up a stone, skipping it across the pond. "Obviously,"

"What?" Flightless's heart sunk deeper than the rocks that went underwater. Bessie was always so supportive- why would she be mad? Had she done something? Was it something she said? Panicked thoughts ran through her brain, but she managed a, "Why?"

"Take a guess, Elizabeth."

Wincing at her full name, Flightless's eyes lowered to the grass they were sitting on. "I... I don't know, really. Did I offend you? Do something you didn't like, or say something?"

Bessie grit her teeth and turned sharply to Flightless. She narrowed her eyes, anger clearly evident, but also hurt. She shook her head like Flightless was the dumbest person she had ever met. "You're kidding, right? Icarus was hurt! Badly hurt, and you just waltz off from the Medic's Center without letting me know you're leaving or coming back later to check on your best friends! You were being a horrible friend! Does Icarus's safety mean that little to you?"

"Of course it doesn't!" she defended, "His safety is incredibly important to me!"

"Then where did you go?"

"Jude made me go home, it wasn't my fault,"

Bessie's face scrunched up. "What? Why?"

"Uh..." Flightless searched her brain for an excuse. Telling Bessie about her wind magic could get them both killed, and she was pretty sure that wouldn't be pleasant. "I, um, I don't know! Jude is just... infuriating sometimes. He wanted me to go home and stay there. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for Icarus, I wanted to be,"

Bessie squinted at her, not fully convinced, but she let the matter drop. "Fine, whatever,"

"So, is Icarus alright?" Flightless pushed, desperate for more information on his well being. Jude had said that he was going to recover, but doubts still lingered in her mind.

"He will be, with time. But, well... never mind." Bessie shook her head and threw a stone into the frigid pond with a PLOP! that splashed droplets of water on them.

"No, what?" Now Bessie had Flightless's attention. Could there be bad news along with the good? How bad?

Bessie's facial expression looked pained- like she was facing a difficult truth. She scanned the sky and looked around at the beautiful nature around her. "Beth, what do you notice about the plants around here. And the weather."

"What does that have to do with-"

"What do you notice?"

Flightless surrendered and looked around. "Well, we're at the main pond, so there's water. And there's a lot of wheat. The barn's over there. And-"

"Not that!" Bessie griped, "Think deeper. Describe the wheat, the water, and the air. What do you feel?"

Momentarily, Flightless closed her eyes. Flurries of sound rose around her: the migrating ducks, the wind rushing by, a splash in the pond. "I feel like it's autumn."

"Exactly,"

Flightless opened her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that migration is coming, and Icarus is wounded. Which means-"

"He will have a harder time flying since more of his energy will be given to healing his wounds," Suddenly, Flightless felt awful. It was her fault that Icarus got hurt in the first place, and now he was paying for it. He may be paying for it with his life.

"What do we do?"

"Right now, we give him as much support as possible so that he can get through this. Then, we hope."

"Right," Flightless nodded, "let's go."

The two rose from the ground, dusting themselves off and began walking towards Medic's Center solemnly. It wasn't long, however, before Flightless noticed that someone was following them.

"Bessie," she hissed urgently, "Bessie, I think someone is-"

"I know," she whispered back. 

They walked faster and with more intent than before, but the person eventually caught up to them and called, "Oh, look, it's Bloated Bessie! And Flightless, too."

"Shut up, Arizona!" Bessie growled, spinning around to face her.

Arizona scoffed. "What? Can't take a joke?"

Flightless narrowed her eyes. "I swear, Arizona, if you don't leave us alone, I'll-"

"You'll what? Fly over here and hit me? Oh, wait..."

With a shout, Flightless lunged at Arizona before Bessie could restrain her. Flightless lashed out, trying to grab at her, but Arizona simply pushed off the ground and hovered just out of Flightless's reach.

"Oh, come on. You can do better than that!" Arizona said. A devilish smile crosser her lips and she kicked out her foot. It impacted on Flightless's head, making her stumble back and topple into the dirt, clutching her forehead.

Bessie shot into the air. "Why, you little-"

Arizona launched at Bessie and threw her shoulder against Bessie's neck, sending her to the ground with a sickening thud. Bessie wheezed and gasped for air, holding her throat. Her eyes watered as she kept trying to suck in a breath, barely getting enough air each time.

Flightless looked over at her friend, also collapsed in the dirt. Her gaze trailed up and down the streets. There wasn't a single person in sight. No help was coming. Gritting her teeth, Flightless stood up.

"Leave her alone, Arizona..." Flightless mumbled so quietly that it was almost inaudible.

"What was that, Flightless?" Arizona mocked, snarling at her with an evil glint in her green, serpentine eyes.

Flightless carefully found her voice. "I said, leave her alone!"

"How can you possibly be friends with her, let alone defend her!" Arizona cackled, "Look at her! She's so heavy she can barely get off the ground!"

"She can fly just fine!"

Arizona descended, landing gracefully in front of Flightless and resting a hand on her shoulder. The hand was cold, not comforting, causing Flightless to brush it away. Arizona replaced her hand as if nothing had happened. "Flightless, you shouldn't take it personally. Being a good aviator is in my DNA. My mom was the best at aerial tricks before she broke her leg, and my dad is still the fastest racer in Gargathorne. And Bessie? Well, the odds are stacked against her. Her mom's just about as fat as her, and her dad? Actually, where is your dad Bessie?" Arizona turned away from Flightless, removing her hand. Instead, she fixed her sharp glare on Bessie. "Come on, Bessie, where is your dad?"

Bessie was picking herself up off the ground, seething at Arizona Worthington. "Shut up, Arizona!"

"Oh, that's right! He's dead. He died during migration. Too slow to keep up with the pack. Hmm. It really is a shame. I hope the same doesn't happen to you this migration."

"SHUT UP!" Bessie was beginning to lose it, face bright red and eyes burning so bright they could have incinerated Arizona on the spot.

"Although," she smirked, "maybe it would be better. Put you out of your misery, you know? Well, my dad is going to be the flight leader. I'll ask him to fly faster, make it harder on you. He'll listen to me, you know." Arizona returned her eyes to Flightless, "And you, Flightless? Well, you're just that- flightless. Enjoy winter in Gargathorne." With a toss of her hair, Arizona shot into the sky, flipped and continued on her way, quickly joined by her swarm of friends.

Flightless went to help Bessie brush off her dress. "Don't listen to Arizona. She is the worst, and she'll say anything to get you down."

"I know,"

"And besides, her dad probably won't be flight leader. It'll be Master Wool, for sure!"

"Right,"

"And you and I both know you are not fat. You're thinner than I am."

"Yeah,"

"Bessie, are you okay?"

"Fine,"

Flightless sighed and wrapped her friend in a hug. Bessie smelled like she always did- like chocolate and peppermint with a hint of something warm that she could never place. Bessie hugged her tightly back. Flightless felt something wet on her shoulder, then realized that her friend was crying.

"Shh, it's going to be okay, Bessie, it'll be okay." she soothed, holding her friend closer.

Through tears, Bessie cried, "We're going to die in migration! Die, Beth, dead!"

Flightless bit her lip, trying not to give in to despair. Bessie was right. There was no way they would make it through this. Flightless, even with wind magic, would die in her tiny house through the winter, and they'd drag her body to some unmarked grave where she'd be forgotten. As for Bessie, she'd fall behind. No one would wait on her, and she'd be lost in the wilderness, die, and never be found. The same fate sounded likely for Icarus, too. If his parents paid a lot of money, it was possible that the medics would carry him, but there was no way his dad would be alright with that. To Icarus's father, children were worth nothing, especially children that were bad at flying. Out of Icarus's five siblings, he was the worst when it came to aviation. Benedict King, Icarus's father, would never pay that much for him. He'd either get lost a day or so in, or he'd be left in Gargathorne to freeze with Flightless. Every outcome seemed more hopeless than the next.

So Flightless didn't use any words. She didn't try to make Bessie feel better. Because sometimes, it's not okay. Sometimes it's not going to get better. Sometimes you don't need a person to console you, you just need a person to hold you.

In the streets of Gargathorne, they finally allowed themselves to be sad, to not see the glass half full. And that was that.

*

"Icarus, you can't possibly be serious!" 

"Oh, but I am,"

"But- but the risks! Those medics will kill us. Seriously."

"No, they won't! They like me!" Icarus pleaded, grabbing onto Flightless's hand. "Come on, Beth, tell her! Tell Bessie it'll be fine!"

Flightless shook her head. "Contradict Bessie? I'd rather not."

Icarus Reign plopped back down on the bed in the Medic's Center, huffing. His tousled brown locks fell around his head, his blue eyes seemed clouded by exasperation.

"Oh, come on, Icarus," Flightless said, trying to lift his spirits. She laid a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing her thumb over the top of the shoulder. "You know it's for the best."

"Yeah, I do." He rolled over, turning his back to her. Flightless looked over at Bessie with a question written on her face.

She silently mouthed the word, "Please?" to Bessie in attempts to change her mind.

"No," she mouthed back, shaking her head.

"Please? Please, Bessie?" Were the next words her lips formed. Bessie bit the inside of her cheek, looking over at Icarus. He seemed distraught, making her finally conform.

"Fine," Flightless lip read.

She grinned and said, "Okay, Icarus. We'll sneak out of the Medic's Center. But we have to be stealthy or they're going to get mad."

Icarus flipped around, grinning as well. His eyes were glowing with happiness at the prospect of escape. Medical places had a habit of making people miserable, even if they aren't very sick or hurt. The whole atmosphere seemed tainted with terminal cases, hopeless situations, and overall desperation, making some patients give into the gloom as well. Icarus was one of those patients, feeling the weight from everyone else's problems. He needed a breath of fresh air, he needed to get up in the sky and just... fly.

"This is still stupid," Bessie grouched as Flightless opened a window. The hinges squealed and the trio froze, staring at the door like it was a bomb about to go off. When Flightless got over her paralysis, she opened it all the way and propped it open with some sort of medical instrument left on a table. Bessie went to Icarus's bedside and slowly helped him out of bed. He stumbled and started to slip from her grasp. Flightless lunged and grabbed his arm to steady him.

"Thanks, Beth," he whispered. They hobbled to the window, where the girls helped Icarus sit down. Bessie lifted off the ground ever so slightly, flipped to be horizontal and flew through the window, tucking in her feet to avoid the window sill.

Bessie stuck her head back in, hissing, "Beth! Help him through the window, I'll catch him on the other side!"

"Got it!" Flightless replied. As Bessie moved away from the window, Flightless stooped to loop an arm around Icarus. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they staggered to their feet with much difficulty. Awkwardly, they shuffled to the window. Icarus winced and clutched his side. Flightless froze, eyes widening. "Ic? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, my side..." He cried out softly and crumpled to the ground. Flightless slowed his descent, but he still hit the tile painfully.

"Bessie! Bessie, he collapsed!" she called. Instantly, Bessie shot through the window and knelt beside him, Flightless copying her actions.

She checked for a pulse and sighed in relief, fear lessening on her face. "I don't know what happened. We tried to get to the window, but he said his side hurt. Then he just, well..."

"Fainted?"

"Not fainted..." Icarus groaned weakly as he regained consciousness, "Fainted sounds wimpy..." He tried to sit up, clutching his side, but Bessie pushed him back down.

Bessie shook her head and pursed her lips. She had a striking resemblance to her mom as she shook her head at him. The way that her brow creased, how her eyes hardened, the way she sighed in frustration. "I knew this was a bad idea. I just knew that you should stay here."

"Ah, come on, Bess," Icarus teased with a ghost of a smile on his face, "Don't be such a mom."

"Thank goodness you're okay! I nearly had a heart attack!" Flightless exclaimed, helping Icarus back into the recovery bed. He went willingly, but it was obvious he was disappointed at the failed escape attempt. Flightless drew the sheets up to Icarus's chin, sighing heavily. "Why did your side hurt?"

Icarus opened one eye groggily but shut it again, as if it drained all his energy just to open an eye. "Dunno. It just started to burn really bad."

Gently, Flightless eased the covers back a bit and moved the loose clothes that the Medic's Center had provided him to reveal his side and ribs. A gash had reopened, staining the clothing red and wetting the bed. Blood dripped down his creamy skin and pooled at the bottom. Bessie moved to look at it too, placing a hand over her mouth when she saw it and biting back her vomit. She had always been squeamish about blood.

"We need a medic! Now!" Flightless said. She grabbed a thin towel from a table and pressed it to the wound, applying pressure in attempts to stop the bleeding. Icarus shouted in pain and tried to move away, but he couldn't go far in the small bed. "Bessie! Stop gagging and get a medic!"

Bessie threw open the door to the room and ran into the hallway. Flightless could hear her yelling something down the hall and people running towards Icarus's room. Icarus's hand shot to the side of the bed and clutched the sheets so tight that his knuckles turned white.

"I'm so sorry, Icarus!" she cried, fighting the guilt welling up inside her chest. "I'm so sorry!"

Icarus said nothing, just grit his teeth in pain. After what felt like eons, the door finally swung open as three medics ran to the bed. One roughly pushed Flightless out of the way and took over applying pressure. They frantically discussed Icarus until one went to Flightless and Bessie.

"You both need to leave." He ordered.

"What?" Bessie exclaimed, "No, he's our friend!"

"Miss, you need to leave so that we can take care of your friend. You are in the way."

Flightless begged, "Please, let us stay! We won't get in your way, I swear!"

"We do not have time to debate this. Get out, now!" The medic ordered. When the girls did not move, the medic grabbed them both by the shoulders and shoved them out the door, pulling it shut and locking it.

"Hey! Let us back in!" Bessie roared, banging on the door. She beat the glass, kicked the wood, and swore at the top of her lungs, but the door remained closed. Finally, her energy spent, Bessie collapsed on the floor beside Flightless, who had sat down after only a minute of yelling. "I probably shouldn't have screamed at them," she admitted, tracing figure eights on the floor.

"Yeah. You know, they really were just doing their job. They needed us out of the way to take care of Icarus better." Flightless pointed out. She brushed her hair back and slumped down further against the wall and shut her eyes.

Bessie exhaled loudly, joining Flightless in shutting her eyes. "I know, you're right."

"Say it again."

"Say what again?"

"That I'm right."

"No!"

"Bessie-"

"No. I will cling to what little dignity I have left."

"Suit yourself."

The hallway was bathed in silence as the girls began to drift off to sleep. Flightless slumped over in her sleep, head falling on Bessie's shoulder. Bessie, half asleep, leaned her head on Flightless's and drifted off quickly.

When they were finished with Icarus, the medics filed out of the room, each glancing at the kids asleep on the floor but moving on. One, however, stopped. She looked them over and smiled softly. Then, she recognized Flightless. Laughing softly to herself, she flew out of the medic's center and to the home of Jude Humpback. Her knuckles rapped the door three times, one after the other. She stared at the welcome mat as she waited for a response, breath showing in the chilly night air.

Jude Humpback looked through the window, smiled, and opened the door. "Grace! What are you doing here? It is so late! Come in!"

"Oh, don't worry about it. I just stopped by to let you know that Flightless is at the Medic's Center." Grace Palmer, a medic, but also a council member, said.

"She is at the Medic's Center? Oh god, what happened? Is she okay?" Jude grabbed his jacket from the hook beside the door and started pulling it on frantically. "Will she be okay? Was it her head? Broken bone? Did anyone else get hurt?"

"Jude! Jude!" Grace tried to stop his ramble, and finally shouted, "JUDE!" He stopped, breathing heavily and full of adrenaline. "She's fine. She went to the Medic's Center to check on Icarus Reign. She didn't get hurt."

"Oh thank god," Jude breathed, putting his head in his hands. Grace rested a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently.

Grace chuckled softly. "Sorry to scare you. I just told you because she and a friend fell asleep there. I thought you would want to go get her or something."

Jude ran a hand through his hair and straightened. He stepped past Grace and took off into the air, stopped and turned around. "Grace? Are you coming?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," she stammered, taking off. She stopped to float before Jude, smiling. "Sorry,"

"Come on, we have to get her." Jude flew off into the night, Grace following him through the air and towards the Medic's Center. Jude stopped abruptly, holding out a hand. Grace halted immediately and followed cautiously as Jude went around a dark tree. Obstacles in the air were a danger at night, and there were many patients in the Medic's Center because of trees or chimneys coming out of nowhere. Because of the dangers of the air, most people walked at night, but not Jude. He had always loved to fly at night. However, most of the time, he did it high in the clouds, where there was nothing in the way.

"Tree?" Grace guessed, squinting at the dark figure.

"Yes," Jude answered. He took her hand and guided her around before zipping off again. Grace darted after him, coming up alongside him as they approached the Medic's Center, bright against the inky background.

Jude lowered himself to the ground and started walking the instant his feet touched, without missing a beat. Grace headed downwards quickly and dropped a foot off the ground, landing gracefully and continuing on her way. She walked faster than Jude, leading the way through the sterile halls until they reached the hallway where Flightless and Bessie were still leaning against each other. Bessie was snoring a bit and Flightless was drooling in an unattractive way. Regardless, Jude went over and gently picked up Flightless. Grace jumped to catch Bessie before she fell over because of the lack of support.

"What should we do with her?" Grace asked, lifting Bessie's sleeping figure.

"That is Bessie Kennet. She lives right by Flightless. We will drop her off with her mother."

Grace nodded and led the way out of the Medic's Center, Jude trotting after her. They, once again, flew away.

"There," Jude said, pointing at a small house below them, "That is Flightless's house."

The two landed and Jude pushed the door open, though it was difficult with Flightless in his arms. He flew up to the loft and set Flightless down in her bed, tucking her in.

"Sleep well," Jude said under his breath. Pain flashed across his face before he flew downstairs where Grace Palmer still had Bessie in her arms.

Grace stepped out of the house and looked around. "Where is this girl- Bessie, where is her house?"

Jude exited, shutting the door behind him. He pointed to the candy shop, leading Grace to the door. A sign reading, "Closed," hung in the window, and the building had no candles lit. Jude knocked firmly.

Almost immediately, Mrs. Kennet threw open the door but did not look up from writing something down. "Bessie! It's so late! You should have been home hours ago!"

"Pardon me, Mrs. Kennet, but, uh..." Jude trailed off. He scratched the back of his neck and smiled warily at her.

Mrs. Kennet finally looked up and blushed as she realized who was at her door. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were Bessie."

Grace stepped forward uncertainly. "Hello, Mrs. Kennet. I'm Grace Palmer-"

"The council member?" Mrs. Kennet asked, looked at Bessie worriedly but returning her gaze to hold Grace's.

Grace nodded, smiling. "Yes. Your daughter-"

"Aren't you a medic, too?"

"Uh, yes. I am,"

"Is something wrong with Bessie?" Mrs. Kennet seemed to become more and more frightened as time passed.

"No, no," Grace assured, smiling at Mrs. Kennet's concern for her daughter. "She's alright. She and Flightless were at the Medic's Center visiting Icarus Reign and fell asleep. I just thought I should bring her back home."

Mrs. Kennet took Bessie from Grace with a gracious smile. She adjusted her grip slightly before deciding that it was comfortable for her. "Please, come in. Both of you."

"Oh, I don't want to trouble you," Grace politely declined, stepping back.

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Kennet insisted, gesturing for them to come inside. "You will be no trouble at all. We don't get many guests. Come on in."

"Thank you," Jude and Grace said in unison. They glanced at each other and entered the shop.

Jude and Grace stepped inside, taking off their shoes at Mrs. Kennet's request and allowing Mrs. Kennet to take their jackets and hang them up. She took her guests through the shop and up the stairs into the sitting room. Jude and Grace sat down as Mrs. Kennet carried Bessie to her room. Upon her return, she offered some of her apple pie and they all sat down to eat, at last.

"So," Mrs. Kennet said, wiping some pie from the corner of her mouth on a napkin, "How is Icarus? He is such a sweet boy. He helps Bessie and Flightless set up the shop in the mornings."

Grace's face turned troubled. She set her pie down and swallowed anxiously, picking at her fingernails. "He is not doing well. His side wound reopened today and he is growing weaker and weaker."

Mrs. Kennet started poking her pie with a fork. Wounded children tend to make people upset. "Migration. Do you think..."

"Honestly, I don't know. He may get his strength back in time. He may not. It's a gamble. But even if he had full strength, I doubt he would make it through migration. He isn't the best aviator. I'm so sorry."

Mrs. Kennet's eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at Grace Palmer.

"Martha? Are you alright?" Jude asked, staring intently at her.

Mrs. Kennet jumped a bit. "Yes, fine, just fine,"

Jude knew better than that. He had been friends with Martha Kennet for quite a while and was used to reading her. "No, you are not. What is it? Icarus?"

"No. Well, yes. I am worried about Migration in general. About Icarus. Myself. Bessie... Flightless. I'm not a very good aviator. Neither are Bessie and Icarus. Plus, Icarus is injured. As for Flightless, well, she can't fly. She's doomed. My daughter and Icarus are in mortal peril. As for me, I doubt I can make it another Migration. The odds are stacked against us, dramatically." She paused, shut her eyes, and bit back tears. "Sorry, I know it's stupid to talk about this to two council members." Mrs. Kennet swallowed hard and looked down at her hands, which were wringing each other.

Jude and Grace shared a concerned look. 

Jude finally spoke, "Martha, you do not have to be afraid of speaking about this to Grace and I. I am your friend and Grace... I trust Grace."

Mrs. Kennet looked up at them and finally burst into tears. She sobbed and sobbed, holding her face in her hands. "They'll all d- die! We'll never make i- it! Icarus will reopen a wound. He will bleed out and die, unable to fly. Flightless will freeze to death, or starve. Whichever happens first. I will fall behind and die in the wilderness. And Bessie... she will, too. Oh god, the thought of my baby girl lost and scared in the middle of nowhere, starving, being attacked by animals, unable to fly and get away... I- I can't-" Mrs. Kennet burst into a hysterical fit again at those thoughts.

Grace stood and went to Mrs. Kennet's side. She rubbed gentle circles on her back, not saying a word. Because what was there to say? Nothing. Bessie Kennet knew this as she listened to the conversation from behind a doorway. There was absolutely nothing to say because "it will be okay," or "it'll be alright," were lies. There was nothing any of them could do.


	6. Chapter Six

The first signs of winter came sweeping through Gargathorne alongside the aviators in the air, and with it came preparations for Migration. Flight leader had been decided, and Gregory Worthington was set to lead the charge. This made Arizona Worthington more conceited than ever, zooming around Gargathorne and saying that she would probably be flight leader after her father because of her "genetics". It was true that Arizona was the fastest young aviator in all of Gargathorne, but Flightless still decided not to believe her in order to keep sanity.

As for Bessie and Icarus, they had been training hard at their flying. Neither of them had ever been very good aviators, a disadvantage in Migration. Normally, when Bessie and Icarus were training together, Flightless would watch bitterly from her window, feet still grounded. But not anymore. Instead, she was working with Jude, improving her wind magic until she could blast things with it, lift just about anything, and bend the wind to her will. It was a Thursday when she finally took it a step further.

"Flightless, I have an idea," Jude said, stroking his chin. He hadn't shaved in a while, and little prickles of a beard were emerging from his skin.

Flightless moved the wind to lift another cup into the air, not looking up from her practice. "What is it?"

"I think I can get you to fly,"

The cup dropped to the floor, shattering into small glass shards, but Flightless barely noticed. "I'm sorry, what?"

Jude got a broom and pan from the broom closet to sweep up the broken glass. The pieces made quiet clinking noises as he swept. "Well, you can make objects float by making a swell of air underneath them, am I correct?"

"Yes..." she said slowly, starting to understand where this was going.

"Why not do that under yourself? Of course, it would take much more effort and we would have to work at it to do things like turn and make it look like you are actually flying, but I believe that it is possible."

The girl squealed, running up to her father figure and embracing him. "I can't believe it! I'm going to fly!"

"Well," Jude said, hesitantly patting her head, "it would not really be flying, we just need to make it look that way so that no one will be suspicious. Not a single soul can know about your wind magic."

"Wait, other people will see me fly?" Flightless inquired, drawing back from the hug.

"Well, they are going to have to during Migration,"

"I'm going on Migration?"

"If this works,"

Flightless bounced from foot to foot, not able to stand still. "When do we start?"

"Now. Listen, Flightless, we need to work on this every second of every day. It must be perfect, or else Master Wool will know that something is off and see you for what you really are."

"Got it!" she agreed. She scampered over to the chest that she kept her clothes in and clambered on top, leaping off and thinking about the wind catching her.

THUMP!

Jude ran over, helping her to her feet.

"Ow," Flightless complained.

"Again," Jude instructed.

She got on top of the chest, jumping a second time. Again, she crashed to the floor. "I think my nose is broken..."

"Again,"

The process repeated.

"Again,"

They did the same thing over and over, not making an ounce of progress, even after the 17th time jumping off the chest.

"This is hopeless!" Flightless moaned, picking herself up and dusting off her front. "I'll never get it!"

"Not with that attitude, you won't." Jude went and got a glass of water from the bucket in the corner, filling one of the few glasses left after so much practice with magic. "Maybe try to lift yourself without jumping. While jumping makes most aviators fly, you are not an aviator. You may need to take a different approach until you are good enough to jump and catch yourself."

The suggestion was a wise one, so Flightless took the advice. She stood in the middle of the room and concentrated on sensing the wind first. She could feel the draft from the window seeping in. She could hear the wind rustling the trees outside. In her mind, she could see every bit of moving air in glowing silver. Jude's breath, the air moving when his arm set the glass down, even the swirling wind outside the house. Once she had entered what she referred to as "the zone," she asked the wind to swell beneath her feet, building up a large waft. The atmosphere bent to her will, slowly lifting her feet off the ground. Not daring to open her eyes for fear of breaking the intense concentration, she lifted herself higher.

Jude finally noticed, shouting, "You did it!"

Distracted, Flightless lost the focus she had, crashing to the ground. "I'm okay!" A book fell off the shelf, landing on her face, "Less okay..."

Jude went over, helping her up. "I cannot believe that it worked!"

"Me neither!" The girl exclaimed. "Now people will finally quit calling me Flightless!"

Jude stopped, tilting his head and scrunching up his eyebrows. "You don't like being called Flightless?"

She paused. "No. Who would? It all started because of Arizona Worthington, the little jerk- when she called me that. And then it caught on, and most people don't even know my name is Elizabeth. My flaws have literately become my name. I am actually defined by what I cannot do. Everyone thinks of me as the girl who can't fly, so much so that it is my identity. Do you think that feels good? Now, to have the chance to be like everybody else, to fit in... that's amazing."

Jude swallowed hard, tracing small circles on the top of a chair he was standing by. His eyes stayed down, glued to the chair. "I never thought of it that way. I am sorry. But Flight- Elizabeth," he corrected himself, "you still cannot fly. You just move the wind. Technically, you're still flightless."

"But Gargathorne doesn't know that! Now, let's keep training, we've got a long way to go!"

~+~

That afternoon, Flightless found herself at the Medic's Center with Bessie to visit Icarus. She had spent the last few hours training and was in serious need of a break. Bessie was hitting a small ball with a thin piece of wood. With each hit, it would bounce onto the wall and ricochet back towards Bessie, just in time for her to hit it again. Icarus was counting how many spots there were on the ceiling, and Flightless was sitting on the end of his bed, staring blankly at the wall. Boredom hung heavy over all of their heads.

"172... 173... 174... 175-"

Flightless finally snapped out of her daydream, blinking. It wasn't long before she whirled around to face Icarus. "What are you counting?"

"The dots on the ceiling."

Flightless looked up. There were a lot of dots, that was for sure. Bessie missed the ball and it bounced off the wall to hit Icarus in the head.

"Sorry," she droned, yawning, "I was distracted."

"With what? Nothing is happening. Nothing ever happens." Flightless complained, groaning and flopping down beside Icarus. He scooted over to make room for her, giving her more room than himself.

Bessie began her game again. "I'm so bored."

Icarus nodded in agreement.

"What should we do?" Flightless whined, turning over and groaning into the pillow.

Bessie shrugged, knocking the ball with more force than before. She almost lost control but was able to save it and continue on. "Anything is better than counting spots on the ceiling, right, Ic?"

"Right. What about that race today?"

"Oh yeah!" Bessie exclaimed, jumping up and down and dropping the ball.

"There's a race today?" Flightless inquired simultaneously, words muffled by the pillow. She turned over with an unceremonious flop to face Bessie. Some of her hair fell into her eyes, so she huffed to make it fall back into place.

Bessie went from excited to skeptical in a matter of moments. The drastic mood swing could be seen as she began to pace the floor, wringing her hands. "Oh, but last time we did anything we almost killed Icarus. Maybe we shouldn't do this! Is it really worth it? You're already in bad shape, Ic. If you get any more hurt, you'll have no way of flying during Migration. It just isn't worth the risk."

"They're going to release me from the Medic's Center soon. You two just worry too much. But if it makes you feel better, maybe you and Beth can go and tell me what happened."

Flightless raised a hand pointedly, a somewhat sassy expression on her face. "One problem. I know nothing about sports, so I won't know what's happening."

"It's not that hard, Beth. Whoever flies the fastest wins."

"Well, duh, I get that part! But I don't know about points and stuff!"

Icarus rolled his eyes. "Well clearly, because Gargathorne races don't even have points. Whoever flies the course the fastest wins, simple."

Flightless looked doubtful, but she gave in. "Alright, but only because you're my invalid best friend."

"Aww, Beth, you're the best!" He cheered, hugging her tightly and beaming ear to ear.

She drew back from the hug, smiling, but rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Bessie, you ready to go?"

"You bet! We'll tell you everything, Icarus. I promise."

"Yeah," Flightless agreed happily, "I'll try my best to recount everything. I swear on our friendship!" The three friends had developed a system long ago. The biggest swear that you could make was to swear on your friendship. Crossing your fingers or anything like that can't invalidate the promise. A swear on your friendship was unbreakable.

Icarus smiled, quickly hugging Flightless. The girls left after a chorus of goodbyes and waves. A loud thud sounded through the halls of the Medic's Center as the door fell shut. All Icarus had to do was wait.

~+~

Bessie and Flightless arrived at the race in the nick of time, barely nabbing seats. The races always started and ended on top of the hill near the third barn and chicken coop. In the distance were the stables and the gorge. Temporary seating had been arranged for viewers, and an arch was put up for the racers to fly through, which could also be taken down when the race was over.

"We got here just in time," Bessie said, "the racers are lining up."

Sure enough, the fastest aviators in Gargathorne were in a line under the arch, still on the ground and preparing to take off. There were a few Flightless recognized, some she did not. But in the middle of them, all was Gregory Worthington, father of Arizona Worthington. Gregory was a legend in Gargathorne. The fastest of them all, anytime he was competing in a race, everyone knew he would win. He had a tall and muscular figure, his hair was made of blond curls, just like the rest of his family. It fell just above his shoulders as his fierce green eyes scanned the arch. They held so much confidence and power. That look in his eyes had only increased since he was named flight leader. Gregory bent down to stretch a bit, and the racers nearby looked over at him, grimacing. It was clear that they had no desire to race against him, they already knew that they would lose.

The announcer stood atop a few crates and shouted out, "RACERS, PREPARE YOURSELVES!"

Gregory stood up from his stretch, and the other positioned themselves to take off.

"ON YOUR MARK..."

The crowd stilled, tensing up to watch the takeoff. Each racer bent his or her knees to push off the ground, eyes trained at the sky.

"GET SET..."

Bessie nervously started eating the sweets the two girls had swiped from her mom's shop that morning. Flightless, irked that she was taking it all, grabbed a handful of gumdrops.

"AND... GO!"

The racers kicked off the ground, shooting up into the air. Gregory pulled ahead immediately, soaring past them all.

"AND THEY'RE OFF," cried the announcer from the crates, "NOW FOLKS, THE RACERS ARE FLYING TO THE EDGE OF THE PROPERTY! THEY WILL MAKE 3 LAPS AROUND GARGTHORNE, EACH TIME LOOPING BACK TO PASS THROUGH THIS ARCH!"

Flightless laughed and grabbed some more gumdrops. "Can you imagine being one of those watchers? That would be so boring!"

"Mmhmm," Bessie agreed. Around Gargathorne were people that volunteered to be at different posts to make sure that all the racers passed through three times and no one cheated. It was exhausting, hovering in the air for so long and waiting around, and considered dull work.

"AH HA! I SEE A RACER IN THE DISTANCE APPROACHING TO COMPLETE THEIR FIRST LAP! WHO COULD IT BE?" The announcer shouted. People scoffed and chuckled. It was clearly Gregory Worthington. As the racer approached, his face came into view. It was Gregory, no surprise. He shot through the arch and went onto his second lap.

"Hey, are you taking notes or something?" Bessie asked, nudging Flightless. "Icarus will kill us if we don't give him every little detail."

"Well, Icarus will have to cope. Do you have any more gumdrops?"

"No, but I have some lemon drops. They're the same thing."

"No, they're not."

"They're both drops, they're essentially the same thing."

"Well there's also cough drops at the Medic's Center, but-"

"HERE COME THE OTHER RACERS FOR THEIR SECOND LAP!"

The rest of the race went rather the same way, with Gregory Worthington a lap and a half or so ahead of everyone else. He won first place, no surprise and walked off with his gold medal like it was nothing, greeting his family. His wife, Cassandra Worthington stood beside him as his children, Arizona and Arthur, handed water and snacks to him.

Arthur Worthington. Now he was something. 13, blond with somewhat curly hair, and the same signature green eyes of the Worthington family, he was pleasant to look at. Especially with a tanned, muscular body and perfect skin. Bessie once described him as, "carved by the gods," and proceeded to go on and on about his jawline. Before John Marsh, of course. But Flightless simply couldn't see it. She hated his personality, especially since he was partners in crime with his twin, Arizona. Despite looking the part, they were not technically identical. The genetics in their family simply made them look very similar, as every Worthington seemed to have those haunting green eyes and golden ringlets.

Arthur looked up to take his father's sweat rag. The four family members left, all stone-faced and cold. Flightless glared after them. To her, they were a prejudiced family with warped morals and values. She had no idea the darkness that went on behind the doors of the Worthington Manor.

She and Bessie left quickly to find Icarus and tell him about the race.

~+~

The morning was cool and brisk when Flightless went to Mrs. Kennet's shop for a few gumdrops and to see Bessie. As she entered, she saw that Mrs. Kennet was running the register. Skipping up happily, she laid a few coins on the counter.

"Hey, Mrs. Kennet! Can I have some gumdrops?"

"Of course, dear." Mrs. Kennet chirped, handing her a small bag of them. "Now, do you need to find Bessie?"

Flightless took the bag off the counter. "Yep!"

"She's in her room. Bye, Flightless!" Mrs. Kennet sang as the girl went upstairs to the house above the shop. She went through the sitting room to the stairs, hopping up them until she reached Bessie's room. Her room was small, painted a pale yellow, but sketches Flightless had drawn of herself, Bessie, and Icarus hung all over the walls.

Bessie was bent over by her bed, grabbing things from underneath and sorting them into piles. Sometimes, she would put something in a bag to her right.

"What are you doing?" Flightless asked as she entered the room.

Bessie looked up and smiled nervously, shoving the bag under the bed and making an awkward attempt to hide it with her body. "Beth! Uh... hey?"

Flightless repeated the question.

"I, um... Oh, alright. I was packing." Bessie winced, looking down uncomfortably. She wrung her hands, swaying back and forth a bit.

Flightless squinted at her, noticing the odd behavior. She scanned the rest of Bessie's room. It too was torn up, stuff out of drawers and bins and organized. "Packing for what?"

"Migration..." she admitted. "I didn't want to tell you because I thought it'd make you feel bad or something."

"It's fine, really. Do you need any help?" Flightless offered. Bessie nodded, so Flightless stooped down to collect some clothes. She had been on Migration before since children under 13 could be carried by an expert aviator. Down at Gripethorne, the winter civilization, the weather was pleasant and mild, but the Migration itself was long and cold. With this in mind, she tossed a cloudy gray colored cape into the pile with warm clothes. The piles seemed to be sorted into warm clothes, cool clothes, and clothes for mild, in between weather. For Migration, to stay, and for Gripethorne.

Bessie tossed a few ribbons into the stay pile, examined another, and put it in the Gripethorne pile. "Hey Beth, what about this? Which pile?" she showed her a shirt with sleeves reaching to the elbows. It had small butterflies sewn into it, a dark blue, and the rest of the shirt was white.

"I'd put it in the Gripethorne pile." Bessie obeyed, tossing it over. "Bessie, when you get to Gripethorne-"

"We. When we get to Gripethorne." corrected Bessie, looking firmly at her friend.

Flightless rolled her eyes, throwing a pair of skinny jeans in the Migration pile. "Yeah, okay, when we get to Gripethorne, what will we do about Icarus? The Medic's Center there is so small, and I'm worried that he won't get one of the beds. You know how many people get hurt on Migration."

Bessie shrugged. "I don't know. If there are people with more severe injuries, they'll get the beds, but he'll probably be priority enough to get a bed."

Flightless nodded, putting a skirt with the other cool clothes.

"Ugh, this is boring," Bessie complained. She was currently trying to bite a thread that was hanging off of a dress so pull it off. That only made the hem unravel. Frustrated, she set it on her bed to mend later. "After we sort everything we're going to have to narrow down our choices. We have to carry all of our own stuff."

"Ah, yes, the worst part of Migration. I always over pack and have way too much stuff to carry," remarked Flightless, remembering how overloaded she always was on Migration. Everyone had to carry their own stuff, so people tried to cut down on what they brought. However, she had always been bad at that part.

Bessie laughed and grabbed her wrist, standing up from the floor and dragging Flightless with her. "Come on, let's go do something else, we'll finish this later."

The two ran down the stairs and through the shop, waving at Mrs. Kennet as they left. They ran down the street as fast as they could, past the shops, past the people, and past their problems. Everything was a blur as they smiled, hair flying out behind them. They turned back and turned back around too late. The two crashed right into two other people.

The people they crashed into had been picking out some granny smith apples from a produce stall. They turned around in sync, glaring at the girls. Bessie gasped when she realized who it was.

"Well if it isn't bloated Bessie and the flightless wonder!" Arizona Worthington snarled. She crossed her arms, glaring at them.

The person beside her, Arthur Worthington, scowled. "You should really watch where you're going... Sorry, was it Bessie? Yikes, what kind of mother do you have, naming you something as awful as that?"

Bessie grit her teeth, taking a step forward. "I like my name, and I chose it. My mom named me Margret, Bessie is my middle name. And I decided that I wanted to go by Bessie, so shove off."

"Who are you to talk to me like that? You little urchin!" Arthur shoved Bessie to the ground. She landed in the dust, coughing from the dirt. He drew his leg back and slammed it into her side. Bessie cried out and crawled backward. "Apologize!"

"Leave her alone!" Flightless cried, grabbing his arm before he could hit her. She shoved him backward. Arthur barely fell back a step. Suddenly, his vibrant green eyes hardened. Arthur kicked Flightless's leg hard enough that she nearly fell. Arizona finished the job, slamming her with her fist and sending her down next to Bessie.

They shook their heads, leaving with the apples and heading down the street. A couple of shop owners and some people in the street looked sympathetically at the girls but did nothing. Everyone knew that the Worthington twins were a powerful force to cross, and general policy was to avoid getting them angry, which could happen if they assisted the bullied girls. No one spoke or did anything against the Worthingtons because anyone that did mysteriously ended up out of a job, in jail, or dead. Don't be fooled, while Helmer Wool was Gargathorne's Master, Gregory Worthington was the master of Gargathorne.

Flightless stood up, wincing at the pain in her leg, and offered a hand to Bessie, which she accepted, stumbling when she stood.

Bessie looked after the twins, glaring at them with tears in her eyes. A sniffle, and then she said, "Arthur Worthington, sculpted by the gods? What was I thinking? He's a creation of the devil."

The two wandered off until Flightless noticed a dark shape by the bags of flour outside the baker's stand. It rustled the bags and she slowly approached it, careful not to make much noise.

"Beth? What are you doing?"

"Shh," she hushed, advancing on whatever was behind the flour. Finally, she reached the bag and lunged, throwing the sack away. There, wing clearly broken, was a small black bird. It cawed pitifully, backing away from her into another bag. "Oh, so you are the one that's been rustling the bushes lately!" Flightless said to the bird. It made a weak, fearful noise, but she gently picked it up. It tried to flap its wings but its efforts were in vain.

"What? What is it, Beth?" Bessie asked, looking over Flightless's shoulder. "Oh! Put that down! It probably carries disease!"

"He's hurt, Bess. We're taking him with us. Well, I am. I'm taking him home."

Bessie tried to take the bird, but Flightless backed up, holding the bird close. "Oh, so it's a he? How do you know it's a he?"

"I can feel it."

"Elizabeth Anne Everheart put the bird down."

"No! He is hurt and I need to help him. Right, Sunny?" She cooed, brushing his feathers gently. The bird chirped softly, fear leaving it.

Bessie shook her head. "No, oh no, you are not naming it. If you name it, you'll get attached, and you can't keep it."

"Sunny doesn't like when you call him an 'it'. He's not a thing." Flightless replied, adjusting a feather on the blackbird's body. She whispered quietly to it, assuring the small bird that everything would be alright.

"Why would you even name him Sunny? He's a blackbird."

Flightless glared at her. "Because I like that name. Plus, his beak and eyes are bright yellow. So I think it's fitting. It doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm keeping him. So you've got to figure out how to cope with that." She turned on her heel and marched back home to help Sunny.

Bessie flew to catch up to her. Landing beside her, she sighed in surrender. "Alright, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Come on, help me with Sunny."

The two walked off to Flightless's house. Bessie held the door so that Flightless could hold the bird. They set him on the table, examining the broken wing. It was bent awkwardly but wasn't bleeding.

Bessie got some water for him while Flightless got some bread from the cupboard for him to eat. Once Sunny was fed and watered, they got out the box of medical supplies that Flightless kept. Inside was gauze, a few medications, and some cleaner for wounds.

"What are we supposed to do?" Bessie moaned, holding up the gauze, "We're not medics, we have no idea how to help him!"

At first, Flightless was tempted to agree. But then an idea came to mind. "You're right, Bessie. We're not medics. But I know someone who is..."

And that is how Grace Palmer found herself in Flightless's home, staring down at a blackbird on the table and feeling obliged to fix it. "You girls do know I treat humans, right?"

They nodded, and she just sighed. Grace folded the wing against Sunny's body and wrapped the wing in gauze, looping it around his body to keep it in its proper position. Sunny hopped around the table, flapping his unbroken wing.

"Alright, listen," Grace said sadly. "This wing is a seriously broken one. He will heal, but he won't be able to fly again. Leave that bandage on for 2-4 weeks, check its fit daily and change it if it gets dirty. Good luck!" Grace left after receiving many hugs from the girls and plenty of thank yous. She waved on her way out, smiling and adjusting her dress. Bessie left too, after giving Sunny one more pet.

"Well, we're alone now, Sunny." Flightless sighed. Sunny tweeted sadly, trying to fly but failing. "It's okay, Suns. I can't fly either. I guess we're both flightless, huh?"

The sun finally set over Gargathorne, and for once, Flightless didn't feel lonely when she went to bed.

~+~

Icarus Reign was officially released from the Medic's Center a week later with strict orders to stay in bed and to have someone fly him back to the Medic's Center every day so that the medics could check on him. His friends were delighted at the news and celebrated with pastries from the baker's stand. As for Bessie, she had finished packing and preparing for Migration. Her mother was frustrated that their cat, Muffin, would have to go as well. Mrs. Kennet had threatened to leave the scraggly cat, saying that he was a nuisance. This was true since he always puked in the shop and scratched everyone, including the Kennets. The only one Muffin seemed to like was Icarus, who could hold him without the cat shredding his face. Bessie said that her mom threatens to leave the cat every year, but always begrudgingly takes him with, carrying him in a crate so he wouldn't freeze to death in Gargathorne over the winter. But above everything else, Flightless had learned to use her wind magic to fly properly. 

Migration was to take place in two weeks, and she felt ready. Jude decided she was ready to fly outside the confines of the house. The two of them were walking out to the Yard, finally stopping when Flightless scrambled on top of the rock pile. A council meeting was about to start, and council members were leisurely flying by, chatting about politics.

"Ready, Flightless?"

She nodded, took a deep breath, and jumped. The wind around her lifted her into the air so that she rose above the rock pile. Aviators nearby froze to look at her as she hovered there, laughing with relief. Council members gasped and pointed at her, and Jude just beamed. Bessie and Icarus had been collecting bags from the minor storage area nearby. Though Icarus had been ordered to be on bed rest, that wasn't possible. He had to take care of himself. Margret Bessie Kennet had been selecting a faded brown bag and was handing it to Icarus when she noticed Flightless. She slapped Icarus's arm and screamed, "SHE'S FLYING!"

"What?" Icarus asked, turning around. He spotted Flightless and dropped the bags, sprinting over. Bessie tossed hers aside too, taking off and heading over. Noticing Bessie's actions, Icarus did the same, flying up to his friend. "BETH, YOU'RE DOING IT!"

Flightless felt a small bit of guilt tug at her gut, knowing she was lying to her friends. "Yeah! I can Migrate with you guys!" They cheered and embraced, careful of Icarus's bandages.

Helmer Wool flew up behind them, clearing his throat. Flightless turned to meet his steel-gray eyes, feeling exposed, like her secrets could not be concealed under his hard gaze. "I see you're no longer flightless, Miss Everheart."

She straightened, meeting his eyes. "Yes. It took a long time, but I can fly now."

"Apparently so," he mused, considering her. His eyes scanned her whole body, seeming to be searching for some kind of clue that would betray her secret.

Feeling small being the center of his attention, she simply said, "I will see you during Migration, Master Wool." With that, she turned and flew off into the skies, Bessie and Icarus behind her. She went through Gargathorne, loving how people would stop and stare. She felt like screaming to the world, "Yes! I can fly! I told you I would!"

They passed Arizona and Arthur, who hovered over by their manor, training. Each was training to be athletes, Arizona a racer and Arthur an aerial stunt artist. The twins froze in the middle of their practice, staring open-mouthed as Flightless flew by, leaving gusts of wind behind her. Everyone was shocked, and Mrs. Kennet cried with joy when the trio flew by her shop.

After a while, the exhaustion from using her wind magic set in, and the three had to land over by the creek. Icarus and Bessie hugged her, overjoyed that she would come on Migration. Flightless herself smiled through how tired she was and eventually went home. Suddenly, the stares made her uncomfortable, so she cast her eyes down as she walked home, all too used to shuffling down the dirt road to her house at the back of the housing area. Despite that, as she grabbed the door handle to open the dutch door on her house, she couldn't help but smirk to herself and whisper, "Girl who could not fly? Ha, that'll show you!"


	7. Chapter Seven

Migration. That was all anyone talked about. Most years, Flightless would be sad, miserable, and particularly temperamental since she was down and out about not being able to fly, but this year was different. This year, she was going to participate just like anyone else, up in the clouds and soaring on a breeze. Of course, she was excited. Her head felt like it would burst every time she thought about Migration, so focusing was difficult. The autumn morning in which she finally finished packing for Migration was a sunny one, warmer than normal for that time of year, but still cold. Flightless had just finished packing and was leaving her house to go find Bessie when Icarus flew up, carrying a sack in his arms.

He landed easily and stopped before the house, the bag still in his arms. "Hey, Beth, look who got loose!" Icarus dumped the bag into her arms, and out toppled a familiar blackbird.

Flightless, sitting on the latched bottom half of her dutch door, feet dangling outside, nearly fell off when she had to catch the flightless bird. "Sunny! When did you get out?"

Sunny squeaked, hopping off her lap and into the house to go find some bread in his tray. Icarus tossed the empty bag into the grass, a crimson leaf floating down and landing on it. He hopped up on the bottom of the door, pulling out two chocolates from his pocket and handing one to Flightless. "I don't know when he left, but I found him over by my house. I thought you'd want him back, so I caught him and took him over. How'd he get out?"

"I had the window propped open for a breeze. That's probably how."

Icarus nodded, popping the chocolate in his mouth. There was a long silence, but a comfortable silence, before he broke it. "Beth, what are you going to do with Sunny for Migration?"

Flightless shrugged, glancing back at Sunny, who was drinking some water from a bowl on the floor. "I don't know. Most people with pet birds have them fly alongside them, but I guess I'll carry him."

"Look, Beth, I'm not saying anything against your flying..."

"Tread carefully, Reign."

"Right. I was just going to say that you're new to flying, and I've been doing it longer. Am I a good aviator? No, not by any means. But if you wanted me to help you with Sunny, I'd be happy to."

Flightless hummed and turned to face him, smiling gratefully. "Thanks. I think I'll be okay, but it's sweet that you are willing to help."

"Any time. Have you packed for Migration?" asked Icarus.

Flightless nodded. "Just finished. You?"

Icarus also nodded. "Yeah, I didn't have much to pack. I packed myself, my dad, and helped Bessie and Mrs. Kennet. They are bringing way too many sweets with them."

"They're the Kennets, what do you expect?" The two laughed, eating a couple more chocolates. "Speaking of sweets, where'd you get all this chocolate?"

"Bessie."

"Of course, where else?" She laughed, sliding down off the door and landing in the grass. Icarus copied her actions, swinging the top of the door shut and starting off down the dirt trail. Flightless skipped alongside him, jumping up into the air and flying above him.

Icarus jumped, startled. "I forgot you could do that! You scared me!" He kicked off the ground, a cloud of dust billowing up from his take off. Flightless and Icarus rose up into the sky, flying off to go find Bessie. Just as they passed the council hall, a disturbance was heard below.

Master Wool was shouting at Rowan Civil, a council member outside the council hall. Rowan was on the ground, Master Wool standing over him. Other council members stood nearby, looking painfully at the scene as it unfolded. Disturbed, but doing nothing.

"Look," Flightless pointed.

Icarus squinted down at the odd spectacle. Council members were respected. Why would Master Wool be humiliating one? "What's going on?"

"I don't know. Let's go look." Without waiting for a response, Flightless dove down, spiraling towards the ground and landing with a bit of stumbling. Icarus landed, too, and they looked on at what was happening.

"Please, Master," Rowan was begging, "I'm sorry! I'll do better, I really will!"

"Shut up! You're useless. You got in this council on a stroke of luck! I was rash to include you. Your ideas are against me, against Gargathorne, and against tradition! You are hereby removed from the council!"

Rowan's eyes widened. He grasped at Master Wool's legs from his place on the ground, shaking. "No! Please, please, I beg you, no!" Rowan grabbed the Master's pants, tugging to convince him not to walk away.

"Lock him in the holding compartments! How dare you defy me?" Master Wool snarled. He stepped back, kicking Rowan Civil off of him and marching back to the council hall. Guards did as he commanded, grabbing him and dragging him away, kicking and yelling. The council members cast glances after Rowan but turned to follow the Master back inside the hall. Jude was the last one to leave. As he turned, he caught Flightless's eye. Jude smiled sadly and continued on his way.

Icarus and Flightless stood there for a moment more before leaving. The light-hearted mood that had existed just minutes before had evaporated, leaving a misty quiet over the two friends. They continued on their way, stopping once to talk to Denis and pick up a few books for Migration before looking for Bessie.

In their haste, Flightless didn't notice Arizona Worthington sitting behind a clothing shop, clutching herself and crying.

*

Icarus Reign didn't want to go home that afternoon, but he didn't have much of a choice. As he trudged through the leaves, blocking out the chilly wind, he felt a sense of dread seep through his skin. The last person he wanted to see was his father.

The small house with the trampled grass came into view, a small stream of smoke puffing from the crooked chimney. Icarus kicked a bottle in the yard, letting it roll off before hitting the mailbox. He sighed, glancing up at the fading sky and swinging open the door. Immediately, he was hit with the stench of alcohol and sweat. Cringing, he stepped over the trash littering the floor and made his way to his bedroom.

Just as he had almost made it, a scratchy, slurred voice said, "Ah... you're back, eh, Icarus?"

Icarus froze, his hand on the door handle to his room. His muscles tensed. He turned to face Xavier Reign, his father. Xavier was taller than Icarus, and larger, with a swollen stomach from heaps of alcohol. His hair was a wispy gray and nearly nonexistent upon his head, though he had a stringy beard wilting off his chin. Xavier's eyes were pale green and unfocused, constantly darting around the room as if he couldn't just look at what was in front of him. A green bottle of ale was in his hands as he swayed down the cramped hallway.

The frightened boy finally found it in him to mutter, "Yes, I'm back."

Xavier took a swing from his bottle and hurled it at the wall. The glass shattered against the door that Icarus was trying to open, narrowly missing him. It fell to the ground, leaking the last of its contents onto the stained carpet. "What took you so long? Huh? What took you so long?" Xavier moved forward, grabbing his son by the shirt. Icarus backed up hastily, stumbling over bottles and random things on the floor from one of his father's rampages that took place that day. "Have you been avoiding me? Have you? Answer me, boy!"

Xavier threw Icarus to the floor where he landed amongst the clutter, wincing at the pain it caused him, especially because of his recent wound. "I- I'm sorry!"

"Sorry isn't good enough!" yelled Xavier, grabbing another bottle from the floor and swinging it at Icarus. The bottle hit his chest with a thud, and another and another. Soon the bottle was replaced by a fist, then a foot. Finally, when the poor boy was beaten and bruised, Xavier yanked him up by his wrist.

The cruel man laughed at the sight of Icarus gasping and crying on the floor, turning his back and going back to his bedroom. On his way, he called over his shoulder, "Stay out of my way tonight. Gina is coming over."

Icarus's eyes watered. Gina was his dad's favorite prostitute from the brothel down the road. She hated him, and he hated her. The last thing he wanted to do was spent another night in his room, crying, the sounds of her and his dad filling the house. Xavier didn't care what Icarus saw or heard. He only cared about himself.

Stumbling to his feet and clutching his arm where a gash from falling on broken glass when his dad shoved him to the floor, Icarus made his way to his room. The door fell shut behind him. That was the only room in the house without the bottles and trash.

Icarus went to the window, throwing it open and flying out. He shut it silently behind him and flew towards his best friend's house.

*

Flightless was using her wind magic to lift things into the air and sweep them to their proper spots as some before-Migration-cleaning when a knock sounded on the door. Quickly, she sent the remaining items to where they belonged and hurried to the door. It swung open to reveal Icarus, bruised and teary eyed. A cut on his lip was dripping blood down his chin and he seemed ready to collapse.

"Icarus! Oh my god!" She cried, running to help him inside. They shuffled to the couch where she helped him sit down. He groaned and curled up, squeezing his eyes shut as tight as possible. "It was your dad, wasn't it?"

He nodded silently. Flightless and Bessie were the only ones to know about his abusive father. When he had first told them, they insisted on telling the council and getting him arrested, but he had refused. They didn't give up until he promised to avoid his father as much as possible, staying out of the house all day and only returning when it was late. He also agreed that if anything bad was happening or if he sensed his father's anger, he'd come to stay with one of them to be safe. Even then, they hated the idea but decided it was better than nothing. Besides, Icarus was too scared to tell the council and if he didn't back them up, they'd have no real proof and Xavier would be even angrier at Icarus.

Flightless made him lay down on the couch, bringing him a pillow and blanket so that he could be comfy. She fixed some soup for him and brought him water. They didn't speak again until he was eating the soup and she was cleaning his wounds, careful not to hurt him.

"You need to tell the council."

"No," Icarus answered calmly, "I'm not going to. It's okay, see? I'm here now, and I'm okay."

"You call this okay?" Flightless cried. Her voice cracked in the middle of it as she got choked up. Biting back tears and ignoring the sting in her eyes and nose, she continued, "This is not okay, Ic."

Icarus smiled weakly, chuckling at her. "You worry too much..."

Flightless stood up abruptly, hurrying to the kitchen to get another washcloth to clean up the blood. She reached the kitchen and stopped, placing her hands on the counter to steady herself. Nausea washed over her. How could anyone do this to him? Icarus was the funniest, sweetest, most loving person she had ever met. How anyone could find it within themselves to hurt him, she didn't know. She tried to steady her breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. She sniffled, wiping her eyes and standing back up to wash the cloth. The water in the bucket that she had fetched from the well became red as she cleaned it. It didn't matter, though, she'd get more tomorrow.

Flightless went back to Icarus, cleaning away the last of the blood. He sighed heavily and she wrinkled her nose. "Your breath, it smells like alcohol."

Icarus closed his eyes again as if doing so would block out the terrifying truth that was his life. "My dad made me drink it."

She stopped for a moment, considered pressuring him to tell the council again, but remained quiet when he pulled the blanket up to his chin to go to sleep. Getting off the couch and putting the washcloth back in the kitchen, she felt a bit better knowing that he was here. Sunny was already asleep on a cushion in the loft, and the house felt full, not as empty as it normally did.

She climbed the ladder, and when she was half way up, she stopped at the sound of Icarus's voice. "Thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

*

The next morning, Flightless got up early, just before sunrise to get water from the well and fetch food from the market stalls that opened early. Upon returning, she started up the fire in the hearth and cooked some meat over it. While that sizzled, she got fresh fruit and chopped it up, arranging two plates. When it was done, she was highly satisfied with the fruit, bread, and cookies that were laid neatly on two glass plates.

Icarus yawned and sat up at the smell of food. He stretched his arms, feeling loads better than he had the night before. Flightless was already up, getting bacon and eggs from the pan over the fire. She looked up and smiled.

"You're awake just in time, breakfast is ready."

She picked the meat off the pan with some metal tongs and carried his plate and a glass of water over. The plate was a bit hot, but he didn't mind. "Thanks."

"No problem." She shrugged. "Now, your injuries aren't that severe, you'll probably be okay for Migration. But in the meantime, you're staying here so that you don't get hurt any closer to taking off. After breakfast, I'm going to get Bessie and she'll come over for a while and we'll talk about informing the council-"

"No."

"We'll talk about it when Bessie gets here. In the meantime, you're going to rest up and if you're feeling up to it, the Migration Festival is in three days. I get it if you don't want to go, but if you do want to, we can. Speaking of Migration, you're ready, right?"

"Almost, just some last minute prep. Food, supplies, things like that need to be packed. But I have all my clothes and things ready in my room. So are my dad's, I packed him too."

She finished the last of her eggs, wiping her mouth with a cloth and standing up. "Good. Bessie and I will take care of the rest. So, Migration Festival. Do you think you want to go?"

The Migration Festival was an annual celebration a little over a week before Migration, celebrating another successful year and the take off that would happen soon. Although it resulted in some deaths and disappearances, people considered it a good thing, since it kept everyone safe from the deadly winters. So, many years ago, the tradition of a festival before Migration began. Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus, had always gone together, ever since they had become friends. It was like their own little tradition.

Icarus shrugged, still munching on his bacon. "I don't know, I'll see the day of the festival. I hope I can."

She nodded and went to the kitchen to set the dishes on the table. She'd wash them later. Returning, she told him, "Alright, I'm going to go find Bessie. Stay here."

Icarus laughed bitterly. "Where am I going to go?"

Without another word, Flightless left to go find Bessie. That was easy enough. Mrs. Kennet was setting up her shop with Bessie's assistance, running around putting truffles on displays.

Flightless entered the shop, greeted by Mrs. Kennet. "Good morning, Flightless! Would you be a dear and put these over there?" She passed a box of chocolate eggs filled with caramel into Flightless's arms, pointing to a table over in the back where a stand to show them off in the window was waiting.

"Sorry, Mrs. Kennet, but I really need Bessie and we really have to go." She apologized, setting the box down near the display.

"Oh? What for?"

The secret of Icarus's father pounded in her brain, itching to be let out. But she suppressed it, shoving it back into the dark recesses of her mind. "Uh, I can't tell you. It's a secret, but I need to talk to Bessie about it."

"It's not about that John Marsh boy, is it?" Mrs. Kennet laughed, picking up some candy bracelets and hanging them on hooks, "That's not a real secret, Flightless. Everyone knows she's head over heels for him. Can't imagine why, but-"

"It is. Can I borrow her?"

Mrs. Kennet smiled, shaking her head. "Sure, sure. Go ahead. Silly crushes..."

Flightless bounded over to Bessie, who was just coming out of the back room with another crate of chocolates. "Hey, Beth!"

"Bessie, we have to talk."

"Uh oh."

"It's a code orange." When the two girls finally learned the truth about Xavier Reign, they had developed codes for different situations. A code orange meant that Icarus was hurt, out of danger, but hurt. Red was if he was currently in danger, yellow for if they thought he would be in danger. Green for safe.

Bessie visibly stiffened and clearly was panicking. She set the crate down and followed Flightless out, brushing her hair back and trying to stay calm.

Flightless lead the way back to her house and swung the door open. Bessie walked inside tensely, spotting Icarus on the couch, reading a book that Flightless had gotten from Denis's library the day before.

"Icarus?" She went over to the couch, sitting down on the floor beside him. Flightless swung the door shut and sat down on the couch at his feet.

He put the book down. "It's not that bad, Bess, really. Beth, tell her it's okay."

"His injuries aren't awful. He'll be okay for Migration, I think. But I told him he has to stay here until then so he won't get hurt any closer to taking off. We can't have you flying when you're hurt, you'll fall behind."

"You are always getting injured, aren't you?" joked Bessie. They all laughed. It shouldn't have been funny, but somehow it was. And Icarus was right. He'd be okay.

*

Two days later, Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus were sitting in the branches of a tree in the grassy plains, watching others in Gargathorne fly by. The festival was tomorrow, and some people were setting up for it. Tents were popping up, games underneath, and places to sell food appeared. A stage was being built for speeches, competitions, and other events.

"I can't wait for tomorrow." Flightless remarked, watching aviators fly through the sky with banners to tie between poles.

Bessie agreed, "Me neither. Icarus, are you going to come?"

"Of course!" He smiled, "We always go together. I'm already feeling better, and I could never miss out on the races and games."

Two aviators were arguing over the placement of the seats below the stage. Flightless didn't think whether they had an even number of rows or an odd number of rows mattered, but the two fought anyway.

Below them, someone cleared their throat. All three craned their necks to look down through the branches at the person below. John Marsh stood there, hands behind his back, and looking only mildly interested. "Hey. Can I talk to Bessie?"

Bessie's eyes widened. Icarus and Flightless shared a glance as they suppressed their giggles. "Sure." Bessie agreed, sliding off the branch and flying down to greet him. "What is it?"

John glanced up into the tree at the other two as if wondering if they would leave. They didn't. "Wanna go to the festival with me?"

Bessie froze. "W- What?"

"I said, do you want to go to the festival with me?"

"Oh..." she glanced up at Flightless and Icarus. Both remained expressionless as they watched the scene unfold. Of course, Bessie's happiness mattered to them, but they always went together. Bessie turned back to John. "Yeah. Can Beth and Icarus come, too?"

John looked distastefully at them but shrugged. "Fine. I'll be at your house an hour or so before the festival starts. Cool?"

"Yeah, cool."

John nodded and swaggered off, not saying goodbye to anyone. Bessie turned around, squealing. "Oh my god, guys! Did you hear him? I'm going to the Migration Festival with John Marsh!" She flew back up into the branches, settling next to Icarus.

Flightless nodded. "Yeah, we heard."

Bessie sensed the tension in the air. She sighed, coming down off cloud nine. "Are you mad at me?"

Flightless shook her head, "No, no," elbowing Icarus when he nodded.

"Oh, come on guys!" Bessie exclaimed, falling back on the trunk and crossing her arms. "What was I supposed to say? No? Then he'd never ask me out again! Yes? Then I'd ditch you guys, sisters before misters, right?"

"I'm a boy," Icarus mumbled.

Bessie ignored him and kept talking. "So I thought of a compromise! A compromise where I would go out with him and be with you guys."

"But we'll be third wheels. Fourth wheels. You know what I mean!" Icarus protested, glaring in the direction John had walked off in. He slumped down with a sigh, putting an arm around Flightless. "Guess we'll be lonely together."

"Sounds good to me," she replied, swinging her arm around him.

But Bessie rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and huffed. "You guys won't be lonely. I won't ignore you or anything. The festival is going to be great, you'll see." Icarus raised an eyebrow. "It will!" Bessie insisted.

"I sure hope so, Bess." Flightless responded. "So what's the deal with Muffin? Has your mom given up yet?"

"Yeah, mom'll take her. But she's mad because she has to carry her. She keeps muttering, 'stupid cat' everytime she sees Muffin. But it's fine, she'll get over it. What about Sunny, what are you going to do with him?"

"I'm going to take him. I just hope all goes well."

Bessie and Icarus nodded in agreement as quiet settled over them. All that was left were the sounds of the festival being set up.

*

"Beth! Beth! Beth wake up!"

Flightless groaned from her bed, drawing the blankets up over he head. Icarus swept into the room and flew to her side, shaking her. "Go away..."

"The festival is going to start in an hour! Come on, rise and shine!" All he got in response was an agitated moan of annoyance. Icarus would not be defeated that easily. He grabbed Flightless by the arm and physically dragged her out of bed.

Accepting the fact that she was not going to be able to go back to bed, Flightless got up and plodded down the ladder. The smell of breakfast was what got her to wake up.

At the kitchen table lay two plates, each with eggs, sausage, some fruit, and pancakes. Icarus got forks for the two of them and the bottle of walnut syrup from the cabinet. He sat down after she did and handed her a small dish of butter as well.

"This looks delicious, Ic! Thank you!"

He shrugged, stuffing a mouthful of pancake in his mouth. "Well you made me breakfast yesterday, so it's the least I could do. Eat up and get ready, we don't want to be late to the festival!"

She obeyed, scarfing down her food in an instant. When they were done, they left the dishes and got dressed. The previous day, Bessie and Flightless had gone to Icarus's house, sneaking through his window, to get his essential things for his stay. They had also hung up a blanket on the side of the loft so that they each had privacy and got another wooden chest for Icarus's things.

When each had changed and Icarus had cleaned the lenses of his glasses, they left the house to get Bessie. She was outside her house, talking to John Marsh again. She waved at they approached.

"Hey, guys. The festival is opening any minute now, what kept you?"

"Beth wouldn't get out of bed," Icarus grumbled under his breath.

Bessie suppressed a smile, pretending she didn't hear. Flightless stomped on his foot.

Flightless, Bessie, Icarus and John went down the lane and to the grassy plains, where the festival had been set up. People ran around laughing, children got candies and goodies from the stalls, and aviators competed in games for prizes. John took Bessie's hand and pulled her to a stall where kids threw rocks at wooden figures to knock them down. Flightless and Icarus followed after, catching up as the man working the stall told John that if he knocked them all down, he would win a stuffed animal. John accepted the challenge, throwing his rocks one by one. When he finally knocked the last one over, he gladly accepted a stuffed bird and handed it to Bessie. She blushed, thanking him and hesitantly kissing him on the cheek.

Icarus and Flightless exchanged a disgusted look and turned to walk away in unison. Bessie didn't notice as John took her to a perfume stall, scurrying after him with shining eyes.

As for Flightless and Icarus, they had a great time, even without Bessie. They went on the cake walk, bobbed for apples, got their faces painted with some homemade paints, ate ice cream, played the game "ring-a-bottle", and watched a pig race. Eventually, they met up with Bessie and John again. They were sharing a milkshake at a picnic table near the petting zoo.

"Hey, Bessie!" Flightless sat down beside her, Icarus beside Flightless.

Bessie looked up and smiled. "Hey, guys! Where'd you go? I noticed you were gone a few minutes ago."

Icarus deadpanned. "Minutes? We left a couple hours ago."

"Oh."

Awkward silence.

The man making the milkshakes came over, holding a notepad and a pencil. "Hello, you two. What can I get for you?"

"I'd like a vanilla milkshake, please." Flightless requested. The man nodded and scribbled something down on his pad. He looked up at Icarus expectantly.

"Chocolate."

The man wrote that down and smiled. "It'll be right up!" He walked into the small, temporary building he had made to make their shakes. As soon as he left, the uncomfortable vibes came back. Flightless found herself staring down at the picnic table, picking at the wood. It was a relief when the milkshakes came because they had an excuse not to talk. Well, Bessie and John talked. They went on and on together about Migration and their favorite things to do, etc, etc.

Finally, people started leaving what they were doing to sit in the seats in front of the stage. It was time for Master Wool's speech. Every year, Master Wool gave a speech at the Migration Festival about Migration. Flightless always thought it was boring, but it meant getting away from John and Bessie.

They found four seats near the back where they could see the stage and sat down. It wasn't long before Grace Palmer walked up onto the stage, holding a scrap of paper. She smiled at the crowd, who grew quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual Migration Festival! This year it has kindly been funded by Gregory Worthington and his family, so if you see our gracious hosts, be sure to thank them. This Migration, our Master is still Helmer Wool, and our flight leader is Gregory Worthington. Each will say a few words in just a moment. Thank you."

People clapped politely as she smiled a very fake smile and got off the stage. Helmer Wool got up next, looking polished and dignified. His cold eyes scanned the audience until they fell silent.

"Aviators. We have had a good year. Crops were plentiful. Animals were many. People were happy. But now, the threat of winter looms over us. But just as we have every year before, we will escape the icy death that is this place and migrate to Gripethorne. This Migration will be an inspiring one, led by an incredible aviator, Gregory Worthington." Cheers from the crowd. Helmer held up his hand. Silence once more. "I trust that this year, we will have a strong batch of aviators to come home with us. While we may mourn the losses of those that fall behind, we will not dwell on them. Instead, we will celebrate the ones that live, and we will return to Gargathorne better people. Thank you."

People applauded as Grace Palmer took the stage again. She smoothed her skirt and spoke energetically, though there was nothing to be excited about. "Now, we will hear a speech from our flight leader, Gregory Worthington!"

More clapping as he got on stage. Flightless felt as if they audience clapped too much. "Citizens, people, and aviators. I am pleased to stand before you today and call myself your flight leader. I have made many achievements in my life and though the death of our previous flight leader is tragic, it is also a new opportunity. The Worthington family will not let you down, and we hope that we can earn the respect that flight leaders before have...."

Flightless nudged Icarus and whispered, "This is a serious fun killer."

He nodded and whispered back, "As soon as this is done, we're going to go win the arm wrestling competition. Well, one of us is, anyway."

"You're going down, Reign."

"Oh, it's on, Everheart!"

"Shh!" Bessie hissed.

When Gregory's speech had ended, he stepped down from the stage, Grace Palmer closed, and people left. Bessie and John said they were going to go get flowers from the flowerstand, so Icarus and Flightless went their own way.

Tables for the arm wrestling championship competition were set up as people sat down. Flightless and Icarus sat down next to each other as the announcer stood on a box to shout out directions. "Everyone picks a partner and when I say go you arm wrestle. The winners must raise their hands and remain seated. Everybody good? Great, go get a partner."

Flightless and Icarus separated to find other partners. Flightless found herself sitting across from a boy that looked a few years older than her. She didn't recognize him. The boy laughed. "I am so going to beat you! You couldn't even fly until a few days ago, little girl!"

"What does that have to do with arm wrestling?"

He just shook his head, ignoring her. The announcer stood back up on the box, yelling, "Alright, get into position!"

The boy took her hand and smirked. "I'll go easy on you, alright?"

She didn't reply.

"Ready? 3...2...1... Go!" Flightless instantly applied pressure to his hand, and it hit the table with a clunk. She won.

The boy stood up, baffled. He looked around him, confused, before pointing at her and stammering, "She- she cheated!"

The announcer walked over. "I'm sorry, is there a problem here?"

"Flightless cheated," the boy accused, glaring at her, "She cheated and she beat me!"

"How did she cheat?"

"I- I-..." He stuttered, shaking his head like a child throwing a tantrum. "I don't know but she cheated. There's no way she beat me!"

The announcer just shrugged. "I didn't see her cheat. I don't think she did, either. You lost fair and square. Better luck next time!" He turned and went back to his box.

"Sorry," Flightless apologized, patting his shoulder, "next time, I'll go easy on you."

The announcer directed the losers to leave and the winners to find a new partner. This time, Flightless was paired with a scary looking girl with a scowl permanently etched into her features. They wrestled and this time, Flightless nearly lost. Somehow, she defeated the girl and was sent to the next round, where she defeated another girl her age. After that, she looked around. The competition didn't have any adults, and there weren't many kids left. She flinched at a tap on her shoulder. Whirling around, she was relieved to find it was just Icarus.

"You ready to lose, Everheart?"

"You wish!"

They grinned and sat down at a table, clasping hands and readying themselves. The countdown began, and as soon as they heard the word go, they pushed with all their might. Icarus was stronger than Flightless had anticipated, and she found herself gritting her teeth as she pressed. As for Icarus, he too was having trouble. He tensed his body up as he continued to hold his own.

The match lasted longer than most until they were the last ones without a victor. That's when Flightless spotted him in the audience. Xavier. He was behind Icarus, where his son wouldn't see him, glaring at him with extreme detest. His face was easy enough to read: Don't you dare lose and embarrass me. Icarus must not know he was in the crowd. Flightless stopped shoving Icarus's hand into the table, letting him pin her hand and win the match.

He jumped up victoriously. "I win!"

Flightless rolled her eyes, forcing herself to act natural. "Whatever, I would have beaten you if I hadn't been so tired today."

"Tired?" He elbowed her playfully. "Yeah right. Just admit it, I'm the best."

"Yeah, yeah, all hail king Icarus." She teased. They laughed until he had to go face his next opponent. "Good luck!" Flightless called after him.

He raised his arms dramatically. "I don't need luck, darling, I'm already the best!"

She shook her head at his jokes as he ran off to arm wrestle with another boy their age. In the end, Icarus won the arm wrestling competition and got a free pig, but he kindly turned down the gift and instead gave it to a random kid that really wanted it.

Eventually, Flightless and Icarus met up with Bessie and John, who had been doing various things. Bessie had a sunflower sticking out of her old fashioned leather shoulder bag that seemed to go perfectly with the checkered dress she always wore.

"Hey, guys!" Bessie smiled, "She what did you guys do?"

Icarus gloated, "I beat Beth in an arm wrestling competition."

Flightless grumbled something inaudible and the group laughed at the contrast in the moods between Icarus and Flightless.

"What about you guys? What'd you do?" Icarus inquired.

"We got a sunflower from the flower stand and played a few games for couples." She gushed, linking her arm in Johns and smiling up at him.

He looked at her affectionately, kissing her briefly and turning back to Icarus and Flightless. "It was great to spend such quality time with Bessie. But I'm sure that... arm wrestling was fun too. The festival is almost over. I'll see you tomorrow, Margs."

John smiled and walked off. He disappeared into the crowd quickly.

Flightless looked at Bessie with a disgusted look. "Margs? Why the heck did he call you Margs?"

"My first name is Margaret, it's normal!"

"Yeah but you go by Bessie," Icarus added, his face an exact replica of Flightless's, "That's just weird."

Bessie huffed, tossing her hair. "Well, I think it's cute."

Soon, the disgust on Flightless's face was erased as it was replaced by an evil grin. "Alright, well, I have to go. Bye Icarus. Bye Margs." She turned to leave but was stopped by Bessie.

"Beth, no, you can't call me Margs!" She protested, grabbing her wrist.

Flightless turned around triumphantly. "So you admit that it's weird to be called Margs when you go by Bessie?"

Bessie sighed and gave in. "Fine. It is weird. He's weird. He asked me where he wants us to hold our wedding ceremony and wants to know if I want kids. I'm 13! This is ridiculous! He will not leave me alone, it's like he's glued to me, and I'm being smothered! What do I do?"

"Break up with him?" Icarus suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

Bessie looked dismayed. "I don't know. I do like him, I really do. But he's just..."

"A lot."

"A lot." Bessie agreed.

Icarus thought for a moment before saying, "Well, don't lead him on. It's not fair to him, and it's not fair to you. If you don't think you can't deal with him, break things off. After all, not doing so isn't going to bring any good if it won't work out. Especially if the relationship is one sided. If you think the good outweighs the bad, give him another chance. He may end up being a great guy. Maybe he was nervous about this first date thing. Maybe he didn't quite know what to do and he was over compensating. You don't know. Just do what you think is best."

Flightless started at him, opened mouthed. It took her a minute to get over her shock. "That is the smartest thing you have ever said. Since when did you become so wise?"

Icarus chuckled stupidly. "I'm smart..."

"I take it back."

"You know, that's really good advice, Icarus. Thank you. I think I'll give him another shot. If things are bad, I can end it."

"Sounds good." They came to the solution happily.

*

The countdown to Migration had officially begun. One week was left before departure, and excitement was plentiful. John Marsh had taken Bessie on a brief date to get lunch at a small restaurant in Gargathorne and it had gone well, and he had asked if she wanted to fly with him for Migration. She had respectfully declined, saying that she already promised to go with her friends, which was true. The trio was all packed and ready, and Icarus was still staying with Flightless.

Four days to Migration and people were making final preparations and last minute packing for procrastinators. Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus said goodbye to Gargathorne and their favorite places to hang out. For Flightless, though, goodbye was too final. So she would whisper, "See you in the spring."

Three days to Migration. Jude came to Flightless's house to tell her the plan.

"Now, listen to me, Flightless, you are going to fly like we practiced, and be completely normal about it. I am going to carry Sunny and as many of your things as possible. Wind magic isn't made to use for flight, so you're going to lose energy way faster than everyone else, and I want to make it as easy on you as possible. As you know, we start out in a V formation, and you'll be in the back. I'll be closer to the front, but like every year, people will slowly fall out of formation and fly near their friends and family. The slowest still tend to be near the back, but we're just not very organized. If you need me, call for me and I'll hopefully hear you, okay?"

"Alright, Jude. Be careful with Sunny."

"I will. Oh, and don't fly alone. You need to be near other people, so you'll be safer. When we camp in the wilderness and land for the night, I need to you to find me so I know you made it through the day. Then, I'll deal with setting up a bed for you and everything, don't waste your energy. Sleep right away. I don't care if your friends are around the fire or doing whatever, you need to sleep as much as possible. And eat hearty meals, even if you don't like what's served, eat it. You need your strength."

"Okay. Thank you, Jude. But what do I do if I get left behind?"

"Don't even think about that. You have to believe that you will make it."

Two days to Migration. Mrs. Kennet closed the candy shop.

One day to Migration. Like every year, everyone took their baggage to the Yard and left it there. Rich people had people that they paid to carry their things, people like the Worthingtons and Wools. The council members that were in charge of organizing everyone told the children under 13 who was going to carry them. The carriers and children were automatically given people that would carry their things without charge, the council paid for it. Nervous anticipation was everywhere, and sometimes Flightless thought she would puke with nervousness.

It was the morning of Migration. Master Wool had decreed that everyone was to awaken just before sunrise, get ready for the day, and go to the yard. Flightless woke up and woke Icarus. They got ready and left the house just as Bessie and Mrs. Kennet left theirs. They locked the door behind them in the dark morning. It was foggy, cold, and wet outside. It had rained the night before, and everything appeared drizzly. Mrs. Kennet, Bessie, Flightless, and Icarus walked silently to the Yard, where people were milling about. It wasn't loud, even though half of Gargathorne was there. Everyone was quiet. The rest of Gargathorne wandered in, holding themselves to keep warm against the wet chill of the morning. Parents held their children's hands as they searched the Yard for their carriers. This was the first year Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus didn't do that. Master Wool finally arrived with his family. His wife, Beatrice Wool, took their two-year-old son, Thomas Wool, to his carrier. Flightless spotted a few other people she recognized, like Denis. Xavier was across the Yard, ignoring them. Arizona Worthington stood with her family. Arthur Worthington was talking to his mother, Cassandra, who stood silently. Gregory was watching the crowd with a dead-eyed stare.

Finally, Master Wool stood on a crate to speak to everyone. "Now, yesterday everyone was handed a number for formation. As you know, we fly in a V, the best in front, average and carriers with children in the middle, and worst in back. Number one is flight leader, with the even numbers on the leader's left and the odds on the right. Please find your places."

It took forever to do so, perhaps 45 minutes, since council members had to check that everyone was in position. The time seemed to go terribly slowly. With a population of 650, Flightless was dead last: number 650. Icarus was across the V from her, number 649. Bessie was in front of him, 647. Mrs. Kennet, 648, was in front of Flightless.

Gregory Worthington finally took his place in front of the V. Silence, no one moved. The very tip of the V was standing in front of The Road, a long stretch of dirt road that was only used for Migration. Gregory started running. He ran down the road, the V following him. He gradually picked up speed, faster and faster. He was nearing the end of The Road when he kicked off the ground. Numbers 2 and 3, Master Wool and Lewis Vane, kicked off behind him, surging up into the air. When each person reached that point in the road, they kicked off and flew up into the sky. Flightless finally reached that part. She pushed off, commanding the wind to let her fly. It did, and the very last of them left Gargathorne behind.


	8. Chapter Eight

It was only five hours into Migration and Flightless was already tired. Her whole body ached and told her that this was too much. The wind around her became harder and harder to control, and it was cold at the high altitude. A headache had soon set in, and the best thing she could do was try to ignore it.

People had fallen out of the V at this point. Gregory Worthington still led the charge, but everyone else flew in small groups, chatting with friends while flying. She veered to the right to fly next to Bessie and Icarus. They didn't seem affected much by the long flight, at least, not yet.

"Hey Beth," Icarus smiled, "How are you holding up?"

She sighed, adjusting her backpack. It was digging into her shoulders and her spine was protesting after supporting the bags for so long. "Fine. This is exhausting, though."

"Agreed," Bessie chimed in, "This is harder than it looks. Hey, have you seen John anywhere?"

"No, why?" Flightless asked.

Bessie shook her head. "No reason. I was just thinking about talking to him. Hey, where are you going?"

Flightless was zooming off, weaving between aviators. She called over he shoulder, "I'm looking for Jude! Be back in a minute!" and disappeared.

She twisted her way through the people towards the front. Some stared, and it made her feel somewhat proud. Even if she knew she wasn't really flying, it felt like she proved them wrong, and proved that she could do it.

Jude was talking to Grace Palmer when she caught up to him, something about economics in Gripethorne. She reached him, flying up a bit to fall into line with him and Grace.

"Flightless," he smiled, ceasing his conversation with Grace, "hello."

"Hi, Jude. Hello Council Palmer." The contrast in their titles felt odd to her. As a sign of respect, people referred to council members formally. But despite his government position, Jude was all she called Jude Humpback. Then again, when it came to titles, it seemed confusing in Gargathorne. Particularly with Grace Palmer. As a medic, no one was sure whether to call her Council Palmer or Medic Palmer. She was one of those people that social norms seemed to defy.

Grace Palmer smiled kindly at her, a warm and sincere smile. "Hello, Flightless."

"What is it? Are you wearing out?" Jude's brow crinkled as he pursed his lips, clear signs of worry.

Flightless decided that it would be better to bend the truth. "No, I'm not very tired," she minimized, "I just wanted to check on Sunny." That much was true. The small blackbird poked its head from the knapsack swung over Jude's shoulder at his name. Sunny chirped happily, letting Flightless reach over and gently stroke the feathers on his head.

"I wrapped him up in some extra cloth Grace had so he'd be warm," Jude told her, glancing back that the bird and smiling affectionately. "I've grown to like the little guy."

Grace grinned. "Yeah, I'm glad to see that he's doing better. And who knows? You learned to fly, even when the odds were stacked against you. Maybe Sunny can, too."

Flightless agreed, petting Sunny once more before saying a quick goodbye and returning to Bessie and Icarus's side. They were arguing over something, like always.

Icarus shook his head and rolled his eyes in the way he did when he was clearly not listening to the other person's side of the argument anymore. He turned his head away from Bessie, tossing his hair out of his eyes and glaring at nothing in particular.

Bessie was still facing him, shouting and waving her arms around. Eventually, when she realized how stubborn Icarus was being, she shouted in frustration, crossed her arms, and clenched her fists.

"This looks like a fun conversation to fly into," Flightless remarked. She flew up between them, separating their quarrel. "What are you fighting about?"

"Nothing important. Snacks for the flight." Bessie answered crossly.

Flightless shrugged, brushing it off. It wasn't uncommon for Bessie and Icarus to be fighting about something stupid. "Do you know when we're going to land?"

"We have a few more hours of flight, probably. Then we'll take a break before flying some more." Icarus responded.

Hours. That felt like eons. Flightless had no idea how in the world she was supposed to fly for a couple more hours. Her back hurt, her head hurt, and her arms hurt. The bags seemed to get ten times heavier as she thought about the journey ahead. Luckily, it passed, and when Gregory Worthington started dipping down to the ground, the others following his lead, she thought she'd died and gone to heaven.

Gregory touched down in a clearing. They had been flying over forests for miles and miles, and this was the only spot to land. Others followed, dropping their bags to rub their shoulders and sit down. Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus landed and instantly sprawled out on the grass. There was a small stream running through the clearing, where people stooped to refill canteens of water for their flight. Flightless really wanted water, but at the same time, she didn't want to move.

So when Jude came over and offered to get her some water, she happily accepted. Jude returned with a small canteen and handed it to her. She took it, gulping down the water and capping the canteen.

"Thank you," she said, setting it down and hauling herself into a sitting position.

Jude looked worriedly at her. "Do you want me to take any more of your bags?"

"No, don't worry about it." She didn't want to trouble him. He was already carrying his things, some of hers, and Sunny.

Jude sat down beside her, drinking from his own canteen. People milled about, talking and resting. The best aviators were walking around, unaffected by such a long flight. They wouldn't tire for a long time. Most average people were thankful for a break and took it as an opportunity to eat a snack or get some water. It was easier to eat on the ground rather than in the air. Most of the time people ate lunch in the air, but it was nice to settle down for a snack or a meal. The worst of the aviators were, like Flightless, on the ground and wishing they were back in Gargathorne. Migration was so long and so exhausting.

In a moment of weakness, Flightless made for an easy target. Arizona and Arthur Worthington recognized that and advanced on her.

"Flightless! How are you holding up? Alright?" Arizona sneered as she approached.

Flightless rolled her eyes. "I'm doing great, actually. I'm not even tired." Lies.

Arizona raised a brow. She could see right through Flightless. "Yeah? Well if you've got so much endurance, why don't you race me? Right now. After all, you can fly now and you've got plenty of energy."

Jude grabbed Flightless's arm, whispering, "Don't. You need your energy."

Arizona smirked at Jude. "Problem, Council Humpback?"

"No," Jude said coldly, "no problem at all."

"Fine, Arizona. I'll race you." Flightless told her.

Arizona grinned, triumphant, and tossed her hair. "Great! Let's go." She shot into the air above the clearing and adjusted her hair.

Bessie grabbed Flightless's wrist before she could take off. "What were you thinking, racing Arizona Worthington? She's the best aviator our age and crazy fast. She's going to beat you!"

"I agree," Icarus cut in, "this is ridiculous. Just withdraw. We both know how exhausted you are. Flying at top speed? That'll take all the energy you have left, and then what are you going to do on Migration? You'll fall behind, Beth!"

"Wow, guys. Thanks for having so much faith in me."

"Beth, wait!" Bessie shouted, but it was too late. Flightless flew into the air, hovering beside Arizona.

"The first one to fly from here to that tree," Arizona pointed to a tree in the far distance, a blur on the horizon, "and back wins." She looked down at the ground and spotted Bessie. "Hey, cow! Get in the sky!" Bessie did as she was told. "You're counting down."

"But-"

"Count. Down."

Bessie looked at Flightless with meaning but didn't say anything directly. "On your mark, get set, go!"

Arizona launched into the distance, rocketing towards the tree. Flightless followed, mustering all the wind she could. Arizona was far in front of her, but Flightless had an idea. The wind propelled her until she was close to Arizona. Then, she unleashed a huge gust of wind, throwing Arizona off course. The bully spun to the side, disoriented and confused. She dropped down in the sky but was able to stop her fall. Arizona clutched her head, shaking away dizziness. Realizing that Flightless was ahead of her, she flew as fast as she could to catch up. The tree was coming into view and Flightless knew that she had to do something. As they reached the tree, neck a neck, and their hands touched the bark, she pushed off with tons of wind force. Arizona blew back, smacking into a branch. She screamed in frustration and flew faster than ever before, easily passing Flightless. At this point, there was no way Flightless could catch up. But she tried anyway, shooting through the sky. Arizona returned to the starting point, smiling at Flightless when she arrived a minute later.

"Good race, loser. Hope you're not too tired for Migration." Arizona jeered. She easily landed, not even winded from the intense race.

Bessie shook her head. "That was her plan all along. Now you're going to be tired and you're gonna fall behind. You let your pride get in the way of common sense."

Flightless didn't reply. She flew to the ground and fell back, completely drained from the high speeds. Bessie was right. Migration was about to get ten times harder.

*

By the time darkness crept over the world, Flightless was dropping from the sky. She would fly for a while before losing energy and sinking. But she'd push through and get back up, just for the process to repeat. When Gregory Worthington landed, most people, though their bodies ached, landed behind him normally. Flightless got close to the ground before she just fell from the air and collapsed in the grass. She didn't move and didn't try. Bessie and Icarus, who had been flying with her, went to find Jude, who set up her bed from the bags she brought. He laid a blanket over the grass and provided her with a second to lay on top of her. Jude picked her up and laid her down, her arms under her head for a pillow. She slept instantly, not caring that she was missing dinner.

Bessie and Icarus also felt tired, but the fire had started and people gathered around to warm up and eat their dinners. Most were talking to others, glad to finally be back on the ground, but Bessie and Icarus didn't talk much. Instead, they ate like starved animals. When their food was gone, they went back to Flightless and set up their beds near hers. Bessie on her left, Icarus on her right. Mrs. Kennet checked on Bessie and set her bed beside her daughters. Jude was by himself since Sunny had hopped out of his bag to go sit by Flightless. Muffin was in a crate by Mrs. Kennet but meowed until she let her out so that she could curl up in Icarus's arms. Muffin hated everyone and scratched everyone, even the Kennets. Icarus seemed to be the only person she liked. Arizona and Arthur Worthington slept near their mother and father. Xavier Reign was alone, far from Icarus. Master Wool and his family slept together nearer to the fire. Everyone drifted to the ones they cared about and settled down under the inky, starry sky.

*

The morning sun rose above the trees and kissed the campsite, shining its rays through the leaves. Dew beaded on the grass and dampened people's bedding, much to their dismay as they woke the next morning. The campfire had long since gone out, and the morning was cold. One man started up the fire again, and as people woke, they went to the fire to keep warm. Breakfast was eaten as people wrapped blankets around them and drew near to the fire.

Bessie and Icarus woke, feeling better than they had the night before. Each ate a quick breakfast and decided to let Flightless sleep. Jude made the same decision when he woke. Instead, he and Grace Palmer went to eat breakfast together.

Eventually, though, she had to be woken. Icarus woke her up, and she ate before packing her things. Muffin went back in her crate, Sunny went back in Jude's bag, and everyone was ready to take off. Gregory Worthington flew up and began going south, leading the charge. Flightless felt much better than yesterday, but she still didn't want to go. Nevertheless, she took off, flying into the morning horizon.

*

The flight itself was rather boring. She talked to Bessie and Icarus and got a few candies from Mrs. Kennet. Jude was flying with Grace again, but she flew with them for an hour or so. Arizona and Arthur Worthington didn't bother them, but the two siblings whizzed around, surveying the Migration. Gregory Worthington wasn't at all tired. In Gargathorne, he never set foot on the ground. He was always hovering above it, so this constant flight didn't affect him much. Master Wool, too, was fine. He held a brief council meeting during the flight, when the council flew off to the side, away from all the others to discuss Migration progress. So far, no one had fallen behind, no one was dead. That was good, but it was only day two. When the council meeting broke, Jude had asked Flightless if he could carry any more of her bags. Just as before, she declined.

When they landed for a break, Flightless, the Kennets, Icarus, Jude, and Grace all ate lunch together before the next take off. The second half of the day was more interesting because the view below had changed from thick trees to hilly areas, so a change was good. In the distance were more woods, but the aviators were happy to get a change while they could. John Marsh had flown with Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus for a while and talked to them about his opinions on politics, of all things.

"Master Wool is a good Master, a great Master in fact." he had said, "He's made Gargathorne good again. We have really improved since he took over from his father."

"How do you know?" Flightless had responded, "You weren't alive before he took over. You have no idea what it was like before Master Wool took over."

John just shrugged and replied, "Well, I've heard it from my dad, and he was around, so-"

"What changes has Master Wool made? Why is he so much better than the last Master?"

"Uh..."

Flightless rolled her eyes and glared at him. "Do you actually know what you're talking about? Because you seem to base your opinion off of what your dad says. Grow a spine and make your own opinions, John."

The conversation had ended there, and John went back to fly with his father. As he flew off, Icarus had to fight back a proud smile.

The rest of the flight that day had been uneventful in every way. When they finally landed for the night, Jude quickly found Flightless and got her a hearty dinner, which she ate before going to bed. Bessie and Icarus stayed up a bit later, and in the end, Besse had slept elsewhere with her mom. Icarus stayed with Flightless, setting up his bed next to hers.

Icarus laid out his blankets on the ground, tossing the pillow down. His bags were swung to the side of it, leaned against a log. He looked over at Flightless just before he went to bed. She had kicked her blanket off in her sleep and now was curled up with her knees to her chest to keep warm. Her brown hair cascaded over her shoulder and she looked pained but kept sleeping. Sunny was in her arms and her body was curled around him.

Icarus walked quietly over to her and grabbed the blanket, tucking her back in. He stopped for a moment, making sure that Sunny was also tucked in. Then he went back to his bed, sliding in and giving in to his exhaustion.

*

Their next day in the air seemed longer than the rest and even more boring than before. Icarus was starting to lose energy and would slow down until forcing himself to speed up to catch up with the rest of the aviators. But he wasn't the only one that Migration was getting to. Sunny was sick, and no one knew why. He was always tired, constantly breathing heavily, reluctant to eat, and throwing up what little he did consume. Flightless had been heavily stressed over the matter, and her flight was being affected. She was slowing down and tiring quickly, deadly things to do on Migration.

Jude was worried, too. He worried about Flightless. He worried about Sunny. He worried about Grace Palmer. He worried about Migration in general. He worried about Master Wool finding out about Flightless's secret. He worried that Arizona and Arthur Worthington would give Flightless a hard time about slowing down. Jude was a very worried man.

Bessie and her mom were flying together more frequently, having what Mrs. Kennet referred to as, "Mother-daughter bonding time." Bessie complained about it to her friends, claiming that it was ridiculous, but she always made sure that she never missed out on their time together.

As for Icarus, he spent a lot more time alone, what with Flightless checking on Sunny all the time and Bessie spending more time with her mom. So he decided to learn how to write with his nondominant hand, his right. During the flight, he'd bring out some paper and a pencil, writing unimportant things all over it. However, Migration was taking its toll on him. He seemed to be lagging a lot.

He was practicing with his right hand when Bessie flew up beside him. "Hey, Icarus. Have you talked to Beth?"

"No, have you?"

"No. I'm worried about her. She's driving herself crazy over Sunny." Bessie confessed, brushing back her hair.

Icarus was silent for a moment. For an instant, he thought about what a future without Flightless would be like. Only for an instant. He didn't want to think about it any longer. "Yeah, she is."

The conversation ended there. While they did fly together for a long while afterward, there just wasn't much to say.

They landed that night in a more open area, some sort of meadow or field to camp. Most people quickly went to bed, but Bessie found herself awake, staring up at the starry sky. Each star looked like a drop of light that fell onto a black canvas. They glittered and gleamed, with no clouds to block her view. It was beautiful, the way they shone down on the world with some sort of otherworldly grace.

"We don't deserve the stars," Bessie whispered. She looked up at them, and they looked down on her, reflecting in brown eyes like shining teardrops. She sighed and continued to peer up at the heavens. She was right. Most people in that camp didn't deserve the stars. Perhaps she was one that did.

*

Morning broke and the usual routine was carried out. People ate their breakfasts, packed, arranged themselves loosely, and took off after Gregory Worthington. It was a rhythm now, everyone had gotten into the swing of it.

Exhaustion weighed heavy on the three friends as they flew. If Flightless was to describe migration in one word, she'd choose "taxing". It took the energy, time, happiness, and life right out of you.

Icarus was starting to stagger under the weight of migration. He had abandoned his ambidextrous project after a while, unable to do anything but focus on flight. He had a cold, so he kept lagging behind and dropping from the sky only to catch himself and fly back up with the group. Of course, he never came anywhere near the ground, they were at a very high altitude, but it gave Flightless a heart attack each time. She'd flinch, but he was always fine.

She, Bessie, and Icarus were flying in a line, Flightless and Bessie conversing, when it happened again. His eyes drifted shut and he fell. But this time, he didn't come back up after just a second. Bessie and Flightless exchanged a look of panic before they flew downwards. But they could only fly down diagonally, going straight down was a feat even Arizona Worthington struggled with. With Icarus dropping straight down, there was no way they'd make it in time. In a split second, Flightless released the wind around her and felt her stomach churn as she free fell. Her instincts tried to kick in and have the wind catch her, yet she fought it back with everything in her. Instead, she shifted the wind to push her down faster until she caught up with Icarus. She grabbed him under the arms and commanded the wind to catch her. She slowed the momentum for a moment before finally being able to come to a stop. Flightless was breathing heavily, struggling to hold up Icarus's dead weight. Bessie came up beside her, breathless, and grabbed him as well.

"Icarus? Icarus?" Bessie called his name, trying to get him to wake up. He groaned weakly but didn't open his eyes.

"Come on," Flightless said, "we need to get moving."

"Are we going to carry him?" Bessie's eyes widened, looking down at Icarus. "That'll never work."

"Well, we don't have much of a choice. What else are we going to do? Drop him to his death? Set him down so he can die in the wilderness? We just have to fly with him until he wakes up."

Bessie sighed. "You're right."

"Okay. Then we need to hurry. The others are getting ahead of us."

It was true. The other aviators were far away, and much higher than them. No one looked back, no one noticed them falling behind. That was just Migration. No one batted an eye when people dropped from the sky or when others were too slow to keep up.

The girls flew after them, dragging Icarus through the sky. With the extra weight, it took forever to get to the same altitude as the other aviators. Then, catching up was impossible until Mrs. Kennet came rushing back to them.

"Bessie! Darling, where have you been? I have been terrified! I feared the worst and-" Her eyes finally landed on Icarus, limp in the girl's arms. "Oh goodness! What happened? Nevermind, here." She helped hold him up, and with her assistance, they were able to catch up with the rest of the group. Luckily, the Kennets had saved up and paid someone to carry their cat during the trip, otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to hold him as well, and they would never have made it.

Of course, the day Icarus ran out of flight energy was the day that they didn't have a break. Gregory Worthington had a pattern: Fly for a few days with breaks, then go for a day without, then go back to the breaks again. The timing was so horrible, it was almost laughable in a bitter sort of way. The three were starving around lunchtime, but no one could reach into their bags for food, and no one was brave enough to let go of Icarus for fear that three exhausted people wouldn't be enough to carry him. If he fell, there was no way they would be able to catch him again.

By a stroke of luck, John Marsh had decided to talk to Bessie sometime around three in the afternoon. When he found them, he looked very confused with the arrangement the four people were in, but Bessie just told him to hold Icarus and didn't take no for an answer. He grabbed on and she let go so she could each her lunch and stretch her arms before taking him back. John ended up switching with all three of them so they all could eat. Flightless was relieved to rub her shoulders and eat, and Mrs. Kennet took the opportunity to work out the knots in her neck.

After John left, Icarus woke up for a minute, but he was too groggy to do anything, and soon passed out again. By nightfall, Flightless felt like she would pass out next. Bessie set up Icarus's bed and they got him into it before she and Mrs. Kennet crashed nearby. Flightless was laying out her blankets beside Bessie when she realized that Icarus had not eaten. He'd be starving when he woke up and he needed food to get his energy back for tomorrow. She opened his bag that was over his shoulder. Inside, she found some bread and an apple. His regular luggage that had the rest of his food and things were also being carried by a hired person, like Bessie, but she wasn't sure who, so she couldn't get the extra food he had in there. She set the bread and apple beside him on the bed and went searching for Jude. He was nowhere to be found, so she had no idea how to get him a meal.

Arizona and Arthur Worthington were by the fire, laughing about something as she passed behind them. They took no notice of her, but she watched them. Arizona grabbed something from a bag behind the log she sat on. A thin slice of meat, heavily salted to preserve it. She put it on a stick to cook over the fire. Arthur had some expensive sweets sticking out of his bag, the fancy ones at Mrs. Kennet's shop. It was wrong, and she knew it, but Flightless crept forward anyway. As quietly as she could, she crawled up behind them, eyes never leaving their backs. She was right behind them and as quietly as possible, she reached into Arizona's bag. She grabbed three of the meat slices, leaving only two. Barely breathing, she shoved the meat in her own bag. Then, she went for Arthur's sac. She got a candy with two fingers and slowly moved back when a hand clamped down on her wrist. Flightless flinched, looking up. Arthur glared down at her. Arizona turned around and looked down at her, caught red-handed.

"Drop it," Arthur ordered. She felt her heartbeat increase and palms sweat as she dropped the sweet.

"So," Arizona smirked down at her, "You're a thief now, huh?"

Flightless's eyes widened. Arthur's grip wasn't that tight anymore. In a flurry of movement, she yanked her arm away from Arthur, grabbed his bag, and ran. As she sprinted away, she grabbed a candy and threw the rest of the bag back behind her. The Worthington siblings were running after her, but they went for the bag instead of her. They gave up the chase once she was far ahead of them.

Flightless didn't stop running until she reached Icarus. She set the food beside him and collapsed into the grass.

"Never again," she swore to herself, rolling over into the blankets of her bed.

*

Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus huddled together beside the fire the next morning, nibbling at their breakfasts. Arizona and Arthur were nearby, but they ignored the three. Bessie and Icarus didn't know about the stealing Flightless had gotten into the night before, and she saw it as a miracle, and slightly suspicious, that they hadn't brought it up or tried to harass her. She supposed the Worthingtons had their own problems to worry about.

"Bessie!" Bessie looked up from her breakfast. Mrs. Kennet buzzed forward while tying back her hair. "There you are. Icarus, dear, how are you feeling this morning? Better?"

Icarus grimaced. "Better. Not good. But better than yesterday."

Mrs. Kennet pursed her lips, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well don't worry, we'll keep a close eye on you. You're not dropping from the sky, not on my watch."

"Thanks, Mrs. Kennet," he grinned.

She turned to Flightless. "And how are you holding up?"

"Pretty good."

"Better than I expected," Mrs. Kennet confessed, "I had to admit I was worried. But you're tougher than you look, Flightless."

"Thanks. What about Muffin? Is she enjoying Migration?" Flightless asked, spooning some oatmeal into her mouth. It was bland and needed brown sugar, but it was Migration. Nothing was very lavish during Migration.

Mrs. Kennet shook her head. "That cat. She almost clawed me to death. Can't get her in that cage for the life of me."

"Maybe I could help next time!" Icarus offered.

Bessie wrinkled her nose. "You have a piece of scrambled eggs in your hair."

He brushed it out, laughing and making his hair even messier than it normally was.

Mrs. Kennet left just as easily as she came, off to go talk to Grace Palmer, who was smiling beside Jude near some trees.

"So what's the deal with John?" Icarus asked Bessie, giving her a mischievous grin.

She shrugged, picking at her bacon. Her eyes drifted between her food and her boyfriend who was putting a log on the fire, just out of earshot. "I don't know. He's been sweeter. But he's still calling me Margs."

Icarus felt himself cringe. "Bess, I know you like him. And I know he took you to cheesy couple stuff at the festival. But don't you think he's... I don't know... not what you're looking for? I mean, be honest. He's not making you any happier. And besides, we're 13. It's not like you're really ready for a serious relationship, or like you're going to marry him or something."

"I agree with Icarus," Flightless added. "I never thought I'd hear myself say that."

"Well, I am a genius."

"Shut up Icarus."

"Okay."

Bessie waved her hand distractedly, watching John as he started off into the woods to find some more firewood. "I know. But I think that I do enjoy his company a bit. I don't want to break up with him."

"Hey, I've got a crazy idea," Flightless said sarcastically, "How about you ask him not to call you Margs."

Bessie shrugged again, taking a bit of her bacon. Flightless sighed in defeat and dropped the subject. It wasn't going anywhere, anyway. "Ic, when we get to Gripethorne, I want you to know you are not staying with your dad."

He didn't seem surprised. "I know. I'll stay with you for a while longer."

"I freaking hate Xavier," Bessie stated plainly, angry chomping bacon.

"We can all agree there." Icarus smiled painfully. "So do we get to take a break today or are we flying all the way through."

Bessie said, "I think we're supposed to take a break but if we aren't making good time Gregory Worthington will probably skip the break."

"Great. Another day with no break. Love those." remarked Flightless, taking another bite of oatmeal.

"Yeah, but-"

"Everyone prepare for takeoff. We depart in ten minutes!" Came an announcement from Gregory Worthington, who was hovering above the temporary camp.

"Ten minutes! Crap, I have to go pack up!" Bessie exclaimed, running off.

Flightless and Icarus followed shortly, getting ready to leave.

"This sucks." Icarus groaned, walking beside her.

She shrugged. "Yeah. But hey, it can't get any worse."

Flightless had no idea how wrong she was.


	9. Chapter Nine

The days drug on like weights, pressing down on Flightless and her friends. They say that time flies when you're having fun, but when you're flying the fun quickly dissipates, leaving you with nothing but time to think.

Icarus was flying by himself. Flightless and Bessie were fawning over Sunny with Jude and Grace, so he found himself off to the side, all on his own. He had mostly recovered from when he passed out. He turned his eyes to the sky above, stretching endlessly into the distance. Today was cloudy, and the whole of the sky seemed gray and desolate. The landscape stretched far into the distance, and the trees below had changed from deciduous trees to cedars and other types of pines.

Icarus's head swirled with thoughts and emotions. It was a bittersweet feeling that sloshed inside him. A calmness and a sorrow, hopeless but accepting. Once he got to Gripethorne... if he got to Gripethorne, he was going to stay with Flightless. His father was too dangerous for the time being. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could see his father hugging a younger version of himself. Gently, and with a smile. Icarus didn't know if that was a memory or something his younger self had dreamt up to replace something worse but it didn't matter. It was that thought that wormed its way into his mind whenever he thought he should leave altogether. He enjoyed his stays with Flightless, the safe feeling, the comfort of knowing someone who cared about him was near, the comfy couch and the familiar front door. And he knew she'd welcome him in and he'd never sleep another night near Xavier again if he made that decision. But Xavier was his father, right? His family! Icarus couldn't run out on his family, no matter what Xavier did. He was better than that. More loyal than that. Xavier was his blood, he couldn't completely leave. 

His pushed the thoughts about his father that he'd had so many times before out of his head. He'd had the same thought process a thousand times before, thinking on it again wouldn't do him any good.

Instead, he let his eyes trail from the sky to his friends, who were doting on Sunny. Bessie said something that made Flightless laugh, shaking her head. He found himself smiling, too. If you ever asked Icarus, he'd say that her smile was contagious.

"Icarus, right?"

Icarus glanced behind him. John Marsh had been flying behind and a bit below him, but he surged up to fly alongside Icarus. "Yeah," Icarus replied, a bit confused as to why John wanted to talk to him. "Bessie's with Flightless."

John nodded. "I know. I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Migration is boring."

"Oh. Right."

"So how're things with Flightless?" John asked, looking intently at Icarus.

"What do you mean?"

John waved his hand distractedly. "You know. Your relationship. With her. How are things going for you two?"

"Oh!" Icarus exclaimed, laughing, "No, we're not together. We- ah, we're best friends. Not- yeah."

John raised a brow but said nothing. They flew in silence for a few minutes, Icarus feeling awkward until he thought of something to say. "How are things with Bessie?"

Of course, he knew exactly how things were with the two of them. Bessie told them everything, but he didn't know what else to say.

John frowned, but said, "It's good. She's really into me."

Lies.

"That's great." He felt the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly but he refused to smile, that'd just be mean.

They didn't talk for a while longer, Icarus refusing to make eye contact. Conversations with new people were not natural to him like they were to Bessie and Flightless. He never knew what to say or how much silence was bad or if he was annoying. And God forbid he should talk to someone else first. What if they didn't really want to talk to him and were only speaking to him because they were too nice to tell him to go away? The whole time, were they looking for a way out of the conversation so they could talk to their friends? This is why he didn't have many friends, only a few really close ones.

"Alright, well, I'm going to go." John told him, awkwardly flying off. 

Icarus sighed, knowing he failed at yet another conversation. The wind whistled around him. He pulled his arms close to his chest, cold in short sleeves. It wasn't long before the aviators swooped down for the mid-day landing. The moment they landed, Icarus threw down his bag and dug inside for his gray sweater. It was at the bottom, thankfully unwrinkled. He yanked off his t-shirt and threw it in, tugging the sweater over his skin. The moment he was wrapped in the warm fabric he felt ten times warmer. He grabbed the lunch he had packed the night before, shut the bag with the drawstring, and lay down, reclining his head on the bag.

Flightless trudged over, flopping down beside him, leaning against him and groaning. "I am so tired I think I'll die."

He grinned, nudging her head, which was resting on his shoulder, and said, "Wow. That's dramatic."

"Shut up we all know you're the drama queen here." Flightless retorted, sitting up and biting into a green apple.

"Fair point," he agreed, "Where's Bessie?"

"With John. They're going into the woods."

"Probably to make out."

Flightless said, "Yeah, for sure." With as much sarcasm as she could muster.

Icarus replied with even more. "I saw Rowan Civil go into the woods before them. How awkward would that be? Getting caught making out by a council member?"

"Ex-Council member," Flightless corrected, "He got kicked off, remember? We saw Master Wool yell at him outside the council hall and throw him in the holding compartments."

"Yeah but you know what I mean. Good thing he got released before Migration. I would never want to be handcuffed during Migration. Can't carry any stuff with you." Icarus commented, popping a candy Bessie had given him earlier in his mouth.

The wind blew, ruffling Flightless hair and making her inch a bit closer to Icarus. "God it's freezing. What I wouldn't do for some hot soup."

"Didn't you pack any warmer clothes?" Icarus asked. She was wearing a white shirt and some leggings with her usual combat boots.

"Well yeah, but they're in the bag Jude offered to carry and I can't find him." She covered her upper arms with her hands, drawing her knees close to her chest. The wind pulled a few strands of hair loose from her twin French braids.

Icarus grabbed his bag and rifled through it, digging through tons of items.

"What are you doing?" Flightless asked, watching the bag, but he didn't answer until he pulled out a white sweater and handed it to her. She smiled, tugging it on over her shirt. "Thanks, Ic. You're the best." It was a bit big on her but she just melted into the sweater, pulling the sleeves over her hands to keep her fingers warm. It smelled like Icarus: grass, rain, and something she could never quite place. 

"No problem." He replied, closing his bag again.

There was the sound of a branch breaking behind them, making the two turn. Rowan Civil was stepping out of the woods carrying some firewood, white as a ghost.

"Mr. Civil are you alright?" Flightless asked, not standing up.

He blinked, nodding frightfully. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Icarus joined, "You look scared."

He ignored them, walking off to go put the firewood in the fire.

"That was weird," Flightless remarked.

Icarus nodded uneasily. "Yeah. Definitely weird. Maybe he really did see them making out."

The rest of the day was one of the best Flightless had experienced in a long time. Gregory Worthington had stood up and announced that they were stopping for three days for recovery and rest. She had no idea why, but frankly, Flightless didn't care. Not to mention that Bessie was ecstatic. John had asked her on a date since they had plenty of time on the ground. She was glad he was finally making an effort again.

Bessie smiled as she walked deeper into the forest beside John, their hands clasped together. "Where are we going?" she asked.

John gave her a quick kiss and kept walking. "It's a surprise."

"Do you even know where you're going?" She teased, shoving him just a little bit.

John laughed, squeezing her hand. "Not exactly. Just somewhere where we can finally get some alone time."

Finally, they stopped under an oak tree. John pulled Bessie into his arms and gave her another kiss. She happily returned it, enjoying the warmth and the passion in the midst of Migration.

They broke apart, Bessie running a hand through John's hair. He went in for another kiss, but Bessie stepped back, John's hands still on her waist but just out of kissing range. "John, I needed to talk to you about something."

He raised an eyebrow. "Talk?"

"Yeah," she nodded, running her thumb along one of his beach blonde locks. "I wanted to ask you to stop calling me Margs."

His hands dropped from her waist as he crossed his arms. Bessie drew her hands back as well, sensing the shift in mood.

"Why?"

"I just don't like it very much. It's not a big deal, I just want you to stop calling me that."

He shook his head angrily, biting the inside of his cheek. "Seriously? I was just trying to be a good boyfriend, to be cute. Other couples have nicknames like that. Why are you trying to spoil this?"

"You're kidding, right? It's not that big of an issue, John, we can come up with other nicknames if it's that important to you."

John shook his head, refusing to make eye contact. "It's not about the nicknames, it's about how you are always finding something wrong with our relationship, always trying to screw it up."

"What? How?" She demanded, raising her voice.

"This. And you brought your friends with us at the festival." He sneered, kicking a rock towards a tree.

"I can't believe this. Is that seriously what you're mad about? We weren't even with them most of the time. You're being really selfish!"

John said nothing for a moment. Then he whispered, "We're done."

Bessie grit her teeth. How dare he look sad? How dare he look like she hurt him? How could she have ever liked him in the first place?

"You know what, John? Screw you."

Bessie turned on her heel and marched back to camp where Flightless was sitting in a tree, reading a book. Her pace increased as she approached her friend. "Beth!"

Flightless looked down to see Bessie hurrying over, distress etched into her features. "Bess, what's wrong?"

She slumped beneath the tree, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her forehead on her knees. "John and I broke up."

"What?" Flightless cried, immediately tossing her book to the ground and sliding off the branch. She sat down beside Bessie, who fiddled with her fingers.

"He said I was always finding things wrong with our relationship and that I was ruining it."

"Why?"

"I asked him not to call me Margs."

Flightless shook her head. "He broke up with you over that? Seriously? That's nothing."

"That's what I said!" Bessie complained, "But he still broke up with me. Honestly, it felt like that wasn't why. I think he was looking for an opportunity to call it off and just took the first source of friction he could find."

"That makes sense. I'm sorry Bessie." She gave her friend a side hug, comforting her.

"It's okay. I'm not that sad about it. Things weren't going great anyway, and it was inevitable." She confessed, standing up and offering a hand to Flightless, pulling her up. "I'm going to go find Icarus and let him know. Then I am going to get dinner and go relax before bed. Bye."

Flightless waved as she walked off, then sighed and climbed back up into the tree to continue her novel.

*

The morning brought promises of prosperity for Flightless. It was the first of three days on the ground. Plenty of time for everyone to get their energy back before they took off again. There were still thousands of miles between them and Gripethorne, but for now, she could put that out of her mind.

Flightless wasn't the only one benefiting from the break. Icarus was quickly returning to full power after fainting (which Flightless and Bessie weren't supposed to bring up because Icarus said it made him seem pathetic. He insisted that he would have been fine if he hadn't already been weak from injury before take off and that this would spoil his reputation that Bessie said he didn't have).

The better aviators complained about slowing the pace, but most of them still were glad to do something other than fly all day.

At first, Jude was frustrated. They weren't making good time and he was anxious to get back to actual civilization. Sleeping outdoors like this did not agree with his back. Then again, the break would be very good for Flightless. Still, he wished he was sleeping on a mattress and not a blanket thrown on the ground.

But then he realized that he could spend more time with Grace Palmer. Sure, chatting while flying was fun, but there was something to be said for walks.

As he walked beside her through the trees, he found himself noticing small things like the way her eyes caught the sunlight or how she curled her lips ever so slightly when she said words that start with "H". They made unknown feelings swirl inside him. Emotions like this were not something he normally experienced. The only feelings he ever really felt were a fatherly love for Flightless, some worry, and anger. It unsettled him, but he pressed it down. Grace pointed up at a tree, dragging his attention from her to a squirrel.

"Look," she gushed, "That squirrel is adorable."

Jude shrugged. "I suppose."

She shook her head, trying to frown but still smiling. "You are such a downer."

"My apologies," He replied nervously.

"Relax, Jude. I was kidding."

They continued in silence, Jude trying to think of something to say. He had once read a series of psychology books. What did they say about making conversation?

Worthwhile conversation is compiled of enriching, respectful, and educational content. One must learn.

"Grace? Why did you decide to become a council member and a medic?"

She thought for a minute, the sunlight glinting back in her brown eyes. "Well, I started off as a medic. I loved it. It was so worthwhile, so rewarding. I saved people's lives. But it wasn't perfect. There were medics with no real determination. Not for anything. And then the funding was drawn back a bit. We weren't able to afford everything we needed. We got by, but our patients weren't getting everything that could have helped them. I requested a hearing from the council."

"Yes, I remember. You were very passionate."

"Thank you," she blushed, "Well, they didn't listen so I decided I needed to keep fighting on a larger scale. When Council Heron passed away, there was a spot open and I pressed Master Wool to let me join. He did, and as you know I eventually got the funding back for the Medic's Center. After that, I just wanted to help people in other ways in addition to my medical work and the rest is history." Grace fiddled with the flower pinned to her baby blue dress. "How about you? Why did you join the council?"

Jude shrugged halfheartedly. It wasn't nearly as selfless as Grace's story. "Honestly? I wanted a government position to socially and financially secure myself. My family was very well off and always pushed me to continue their respectable footsteps, which I complied to. I joined at age 23."

There was some more thoughtful silence before Grace asked the next question. "What was your youth like? I didn't know you then."

"My youth? Well, my parents were well off and I flew at a young age. I studied under Council Heron in my youth, then I joined the council. My joining of the council was very difficult for me. Learning all of the confidential information... it a lot for me to take in, so I drew into myself until I came to an acceptance, consuming myself in the documents, historical records, and literature in the council library. Not long after was when you joined the council."

Grace nodded, rubbing his shoulder. "I understand. It was hard for me when I joined, too."

They said no more on the matter, beginning to drift towards lighter matters such as Migration and the weather. Jude was dreading the rain. They had been lucky that the sky had not cried on them yet, but the dark clouds were a sure sign it may rain sooner rather than later. Grace predicted that Gregory Worthington may take them above the clouds during flight, but not for long. The air was thin up there and despite the enhanced lungs of the aviators, staying up there for long periods of time was not favorable, and it would still rain on them when they landed for the night.

Soon, they parted ways and so Jude went back to camp. Flightless had laid claim to a thick tree branch extending above the camp on a large oak. She had draped her blanket over it and her bags and clothes (freshly washed in the stream with Mrs. Kennet's homemade soap that morning) were dangling from branches. The wet clothing dripped down occasionally onto Icarus Reign, who was lounging with his back against the tree. His bedding was spread beneath the branch, and to the right of his was Bessie Kennet's. Martha Kennet was next to her daughter, sewing a button back onto one of Icarus's shirts.

Jude went to speak with Lewis Vane, one of the more honest council members before finally drifting to his bed that sat alone, away from the rest of the camp. He sank down on his bed and surveyed the people, feeling an odd sensation in his gut. He questioned it until he realized what it was. After being with Grace and suddenly being back on his isolated bed- it was loneliness.

*

That night the campfire was barely burning. The rain had decided not to come yet, so people socialized in the fair night air. Most were scattered in groups of friends, chattering merrily, but a small crowd had gathered near the campfire to discuss politics. Some council members were there, as were some townspeople, but Master Wool was nowhere in sight, nor was Gregory Worthington, so each person got to stand on his soapbox and voice his thoughts. Not that it would make any difference in the doings of the government, but people like to feel heard.

Amber Browse jabbered on for a long time about how great Master Wool was, how he was the perfect leader and how he could do no wrong.

"She speaks of him like a god. She completely worships the man," One lady whispered to another.

"She's High Anglican and very traditional. She'd throw a fit if she heard you mention how she idolizes him."

"Throw a fit? No, no, she's very against violence." The first insisted, snickering.

The second woman smirked. "Only direct violence. Have you heard her talk about the homosexuals? She said she longs for the day they are thrown into hell. And when she heard that Laurel cheated on her husband, she said that Laurel would catch a cold and die soon as punishment."

"She is completely off her rocker."

"Such a hypocrite."

Next, Lewis Vane stepped up to share his thoughts. Lewis was a council member, but people never took him as seriously as the others because he wouldn't hurt a fly. He spoke respectfully, unlike many others, and he ran Vane Mechanics, which had been passed to his son when he became a council member, but he still ran the books. He was an intelligent man when it came to fixing plows and whatnot, and he had invented tons of handy knick-knacks at his shop. People had tried to buy them but he didn't put them up for sale. He wasn't a strongly opinionated man, and if you directly asked him his political opinions, he'd say, "Politics are not as important as the good of the people."

He spoke about cooperation between the people and more collaboration between social classes, but no one listened very much. 

"He is so naive," People said under their breaths.

The gossiping ladies leaned in again, saying, "He can't possibly believe his far-fetched utopia ideas will ever come true."

"Foolish."

"Dreamer."

Some villagers preached peace until they tried to pressure council member Henry Thompson to make a speech, but he said no.

"Oh well, it was a joke anyway," A man said to his wife, "He doesn't really ever seem to have any actual political opinions anyway."

"We all know he's only on the council for show." The wife nodded. The judgments continued to ripple quietly in the crowd. Everyone always seemed to find something wrong with everyone else.

"Attention seeker."

"Arrogant."

Suddenly, a voice cut through the air, clear as day. "You want to know what I think?"

Rowan Civil pushed his way through. The smell of alcohol drifted off of him as he stood up before the crowd. His son tried to stop him quietly, but he shouted out his opinions anyway.

"Master Wool is a monster! I joined the council years ago! I saved his son's life! On accident. But I did it! And our leader granted me a council position in thanks! I earned it!"

Rowan, with his wild, stringy blonde hair, ugly kilt, and twitching green eyes against reddish, splotchy skin, looked crazed. He waved his arms jerkily as he shouted, drawing more people towards him.

Flightless noticed the commotion and nudged Bessie and Icarus, who were sitting on either side of her playing a card game.

"What?" Bessie whined. She was still angry at Flightless from being beaten in an earlier round of their game.

"Beth, it's your turn. And you better not play a seven." Icarus nagged, holding his less than ideal hand close.

"Look!" Flightless pointed. Bessie and Icarus faced the campfire.

Icarus jumped up, completely forgetting the card game. "Come on guys!" Flightless began to follow him, but Bessie stopped them.

"Guys, maybe that's not a good idea."

"Oh, come on Bessie."

They dragged her after them, intrigued. The other people had gathered around, shocked that someone was sharing such negative political opinions. 

"He humiliated me outside the council hall! After I saved his very own son! What kind of leader does that? Master Wool is a terrible Master!" He shrieked, "And his pompous little council, they are all awful, too! They know things! Secrets they don't want you to know! And they all don't care if you live or die."

Grace Palmer jumped up from a seat just away from the crowd and went up to Civil, speaking slowly. "Rowan, stop. You need to sit down."

He ignored her, swearing at her and screaming more angry thoughts. "And it's not just the council! They're not the only ones that have sway with the Master. Do you know who the Master really listens to? Our disgusting flight leader, Gregory Worthington!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Silence settled over everyone. Only a crazy man would openly say something against the Worthington family. Some eyes flickered to Arthur Worthington, who was nearby, writing something down. He had paused, his snake-like green eyes lifted from the paper to cut through Rowan Civil, who didn't notice. Arthur resumed writing, but everyone knew he was listening.

Grace tried again. "Rowan, you need to stop. Right now."

"Gregory Worthington is a dark, corrupt man with more evil blood in his pinkie finger than Master Wool has in his whole body."

Icarus grabbed Flightless's arm, nodding towards the other side of the crowd where Gregory Worthington was slowly walking towards the group. Rowan Civil looked at him and sneered.

"Gregory Worthington leaves a wake of pain behind him wherever he goes! And you all know it too, you're just too scared to say it! You're all too scared to say it. Too scared of mysteriously turning up dead. Isn't that right, Gregory? You don't like people stepping out of line. Well too bad, because here I am. Do you hate me, wanna destroy me? Do your worst."

Rowan Civil smiled triumphantly and walked off. Not a single sound was heard. No one dared to breathe. Eyes as cold as the devil's seemed to grow icier as Gregory Worthington watched Rowan Civil leave. But he said nothing. He just turned and walked back to whatever he had been doing before coming over.

Grace ran after Rowan, trying to talk to him but he whirled around, eyes unfocused and angry, shoving. Grace fell back into a rock, crying out and grabbing her leg, which had broken her fall.

Jude rushed forward to help her up. She winced, gingerly putting weight on the leg. "Look what you've done, Rowan!" Jude shouted.

Rowan turned back around, swinging a drunken fist right into Jude's face. The respectable council member stumbled back, pressing a hand over his cheek. Then he did what no one would expect the civilized Jude Humpback to do. He punched Rowan back, who stumbled into the blacksmith, who punched him, who punched him back, so the blacksmith's friends ganged up on him making Jude's friends and Rowan's friends got involved and suddenly there was a full blown fight erupting in the campground. 

Flightless jumped out of the path of two women wrestling each other to the ground and backed into Icarus. He grabbed her by the hand they tried to make their way out of the commotion. A log was thrown and almost slammed into their heads, but Flightless ducked and dragged Icarus down with her. They tumbled into a heap, trying to stand but getting trampled down by the people on their feet. Something crashed nearby, and more yelling was heard. Icarus staggered to his feet and wrapped an arm around Flightless's waist, pulling her back up despite all of the people pressing down on them.

They had staggered out of the crowd towards the woods and collapsed under a tree when Flightless asked, "Wait, where's Bessie?"

She emerged moments later, running towards them and sitting down. "I told you guys it was a bad idea."

Soon, the ruckus drew Master Wool out of the forest where he had been discussing important matters with a council member. He tried to calm the fighters, but when that didn't work he jumped into the sky and bellowed, "STOP!"

Guards ran in to intervene, pulling people apart. The brawl died down and people went to find medics or friends. Grace pulled Jude over to her stuff to clean a few cuts and put pressure on the bruises.

It was an unsettling night, everyone on edge and being careful. After the Master's intervention, the violence didn't start back up again. Most people went to cool off by themselves and eventually, the aviators slept uneasily.

Flightless was up a bit later than normal, just to keep an eye out for herself and her friends. When there were no issues, she kicked off her shoes, lay down on her branch, one leg dangling off the side, and entered a dreamless sleep.

*

Flightless rose the next morning when people began waking and talking. She wanted nothing more than to tell them to shut up so she could sleep, but she took a deep breath, calming herself down. At least she'd get a good start on the day.

She sat up and slid off the tree branch, letting the wind catch her. She swiped her combat boots from the ground and put them on midair, careful not to let her socks touch the ground. Bessie was already awake, changing behind a sheet her mother held up for her, but Icarus was still out cold.

Flightless flew back to her branch, making her bed. Icarus groaned, rolling over and pulling his blanket closer to his chin.

"Morning, Ic!" Flightless chimed, floating by her bags and digging through them to find some soap. She had to go wash her laundry while she could.

Icarus whimpered, pulling the blanket back up over his head. "It can't be morning. Not again."

Flightless laughed, finally finding the soap Mrs. Kennet had given her. "Hey, I'll make you a deal. I'll do your laundry today if you make me breakfast!"

"Deal!"

Flightless scooped up his pile of dirty laundry and started heading towards the river on foot.

"Wait for me!" Bessie cried, frantically tying her hair back with a ribbon as she came back from behind the sheet. She gathered up her clothes and hurried to catch up with Flightless.

They set out for the stream side by side. No one else was there that morning, which was surprising since most people fetched water around that time of morning. They knelt on the stream's banks and shoved the first article of clothing in. For Bessie, it was her checkered dress, for Flightless it was Icarus's jeans. They shared the soap, scrubbing and rinsing until the first was thoroughly clean. They draped the clean clothes on a branch so they wouldn't get dirty before they got a chance to hang them up back at camp, then the next thing went in: one of Bessie's shirts and Flightless's favorite flannel.

"Ugh!" Flightless exclaimed as she picked up one of Icarus's socks. "It stinks!"

Bessie wrinkled her nose, leaning back. "Ew, put it in!"

That one got extra soap.

Flightless was washing some underwear when they heard people approaching from the woods. And not just any people. Arizona and her mother, Cassandra, carrying wicker baskets of clothes.

"Looks like we've got company," Bessie muttered.

As soon as she saw them, Arizona sneered. "Flightless. Bessie. Good morning."

Flightless scowled as she hung Icarus's underwear and tossed one of her t-shirts into the water. "Morning, Arizona."

Cassandra Worthington knelt and washed clothes silently, looking at no one and ignoring their presence.

Arizona set the basket down and dipped one of Arthur's shirts into the water. "Careful with that shirt. You wouldn't want it to get stuck to your sticky fingers."

"Shut up, Arizona," Bessie interrupted, rolling her eyes and trying to focus on the laundry.

"Sure. Just answer me this, are you really sure Flightless hasn't swiped something of yours yet?"

Bessie raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, she doesn't know?" Arizona's eyes lit up. What an opportunity had been dumped before her!

Flightless threw the t-shirt to the ground, standing. "Cut it out, Arizona."

Bessie looked back and forth between the two uneasily and stood up, too. "Beth, what don't I know?"

"Flightless is a thief!" Arizona blurted, a smug look to satisfaction on her face. 

"Yeah right," Bessie said sourly.

Arizona shrugged. "It's true. She stole food from my bag. And she even got away with some of my candy. She's a criminal, and if we were back in Gargathorne, she'd be in the holding compartments overnight. But we're on Migration, so who knows what punishment they'll give you. That council doesn't like you, and more importantly, Master Wool hates you."

"Jude would defend me!"

"Sure, he would. But it doesn't matter. The final decision is up to Master Wool."

Bessie ran off into the forest, leaving Flightless on her own. Flightless had no idea what her friend was doing, but she hoped it was something to help her.

"I'm sorry, Arizona, just... please don't tell," Flightless begged. She was right. Who knows what would happen to her if Master Wool had the opportunity to punish her for stealing during Migration, even if it was just some food?

Arizona smiled predatorily at her. "Sorry, Flightless. You're done for."

Suddenly Bessie burst back through the trees, Jude at her side.

Arizona didn't seem phased by him. "Council Humpback."

"Flightless what have you done?" Jude asked her, looking terribly worried. This was a mess.

She lowered her gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry, Jude, I just-"

"Go. Get back to camp."

She didn't need to be told twice and scurried away, deciding that she'd deal with the laundry left behind later. Bessie followed, all too happy to be away from Arizona Worthington.

Jude sighed, crossing his arms. "What did she take from you?"

"A bit of food and some expensive candies," Arizona told him, placing her hands on her hips.

"What do you want?"

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"What do you want in exchange for keeping this quiet?" Jude clarified.

"I don't want to blackmail her. I just want to hurt her. And I can easily do that by telling the Master what she did." She explained truthfully.

"Money?"

"My father has tons of money. I have no shortage of things I want. All I want is to make that pathetic little nuisance suffer." She said and gave a toothy grin.

Jude rubbed his temples. "What if she left you alone? So she would not be a nuisance to you?"

Arizona sniffed and fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist, her lucky bracelet. It was the only birthday gift she had ever received from her father, and she never took it off. It was simple: just a thin green chain with a silver pendant of a feather, but she cherished it.

"I want that flannel of hers." She pointed to the shirt, drying on a branch.

Jude raised his eyebrows. "You would like the flannel?"

"It's her favorite one." She added as if that clarified everything.

"Take it," Jude said, grabbing it and handing it to her. Arizona smiled, not saying another word as she walked off.

Cassandra Worthington, still at the side of the stream looked up at Jude silently. He smiled sympathetically at her. She didn't do anything, just stared at him, making very long, deliberate eye contact, as if to try to say something, but he didn't understand. Instead, he turned and went back to camp, feeling uneasy by her creepy stare through dead eyes.

*

A couple of hours later, the aviators were called to meet around the fire where council member Lewis Vane was tasked with reading off the list of the missing.

Missing. Missing during Migration was the term they used for the people that had fallen behind, the people that had been lost on their way. The council had finally finished taking stock of who was still there.

Lewis stood up on a log and pulled out the paper. "I have the first list of missing," he announced, looking melancholy.

People whispered. Who had gone missing? No one knew. No one had noticed.

"We only have one missing at this time, a new record for Migration," Lewis informed, folding the bottom corner of the paper backward and forward before clearing his throat. "Unfortunately, our librarian, Denis Martin, is missing. Thank you."

He stepped off the log and shoved the paper in his pocket. People shrugged. Most didn't know who Denis was. Others didn't care.

But Flightless cared. She sat down on a tree stump, eyes welling with tears. Bessie and Icarus immediately ran over, trying to console her, but she got up and went back to the forest for a walk to clear her head, needing to be alone.

*

Icarus pushed a branch aside, trekking through the forest and finally reaching the stream. He sighed, kneeling and grabbing the discarded soap from off a rock and picking up the top piece of clothing in the pile of laundry that Flightless had left that morning. He pushed it into the freezing water, tensing at the cold and scrubbing vigorously to keep his hands warm. Bessie had told him what happened that morning with Arizona while he had been cooking his and Flightless's breakfasts. Jude told Flightless about his deal, and she had informed Bessie and Icarus. The three swore never to speak of it outside their group. 

Icarus, feeling sympathetic towards Flightless about Arizona's blackmail and the loss of Denis, had decided that the least he could do was finish the washing she had abandoned.

When all the clothes were clean, he threw them back in the basket Flightless had used to carry them down in earlier and started back to camp. Dusk was falling, and in the thick trees, it was hard to make much out, but he managed, stumbling over logs and branches. 

"Hey!" A voice sliced out of the quiet, making Icarus jump in surprise. Arthur Worthington came from around the tree, smirking when he saw Icarus. "Reign. What are you doing here?"

He held up the basket of laundry to answer, trying to calm himself down. It was nothing. It was just Arthur. It was fine.

Arthur laughed loudly. "Laundry? What are you a maid?" He smiled cruelly, his hateful green eyes sparking.

Icarus laughed humorlessly and nervously, hoping he could leave. When he didn't respond, Arthur strode forwards and said, "You know, Reign, I've had a bit of a rough day."

That was not what Icarus expected to hear. "Oh, uh... sorry. If there's anything I can do to help-"

"You can." Arthur growled, stepping closer and standing tall over Icarus. He grabbed the laundry basket from Icarus's hands and tossed it aside. Icarus shrank back, but Arthur didn't back down. "You can try not to cry too loud."

Arthur's fist slammed into Icarus's gut. He tried to shout, but the wind was knocked out of him and he fell back against a tree. Arthur's fist landed on his cheek next, knocking his head to the other side. Then his knee was slamming into Icarus's chin as he doubled over.

Images flashed through Icarus's mind of his father. Of drunken rages, of beatings, of fear, of tears, of the yells and the pleas. Overwhelmed, he drew his knees to his chest as he fell to the forest floor and shielded his head in the fetal position as Arthur kicked him a few more times. His breathing shook and his eyes brimmed with tears, but he bit his lip and didn't scream. His father always made it worse if he screamed, and it was his father hitting him, right? Or was it Arthur Worthington? With the images from his past streaming across his brain, he wasn't sure anymore.

Eventually, it stopped. Arthur knelt down and patted Icarus's shoulder roughly. "That's better. Sorry, just a lot of pent up frustration, you know how it is. You're a good sport, Reign, thanks."

He barely heard Arthur leave, only focusing on calming himself down. "It's okay," he whispered to himself, "It's all okay. It's over now. You're okay."

After a few more deep breaths, he stood. He wasn't hurt that bad, just some severe bruising, thank goodness. Icarus grabbed the basket of laundry, sighing when he realized that some of it had spilled into the mud.

With a heavy heart and a hurt body, went back to the stream to wash off the mud.

*

Bessie Kennet rolled over in bed and sat up. Her wildly curly hair was in all different directions and she already knew it'd take forever to work out all the knots. The sun was rising again, but most of the camp still slept. A man was stoking the fire and trying to get it to catch fire again but that was about all the activity going on. Flightless was still on her branch, fast asleep and drooling. Icarus, who had returned to camp after Bessie and Flightless were asleep, was snoring softly. Bessie was pretty sure he'd be sleeping in today.

She made her bed and tugged on her boots, grabbing a change of clothes and heading into the woods to put them on since her mom was still asleep and wouldn't be able to hold up a sheet. When she returned to camp, the man had gotten the fire going again and she went to sit by it to warm up while she brushed her crazy hair. Arthur Worthington came to the fire not long after, warming his hands and sitting down on the other end of the log that Bessie had sat on. He skewered an apple with a stick and out it over the fire, letting it heat up and start to glisten. His normally harsh green eyes seemed distant, flickering over the camp.

Bessie, not normally one to initiate conversation with a Worthington, could tell something was off. "Hey," she asked quietly, "are you okay?"

Arthur looked over. The moment he saw who was talking to him he looked sadder. "Fine. Just feeling guilty about something, that's all."

Bessie raised an eyebrow but didn't push for answers. "What are you doing with that apple?"  
Arthur looked back at the apple, drawing it out of the fire and laughing. "What, you've never tried this?" He asked, blowing on it and letting it cool a bit.

"No."

"It's delicious. The juice is so much more flavorful." He tapped the apple to check if it was cool, pulled it off the stick, and tossed it to Bessie.

She caught it in two hands, examining it. "You sure it's like... safe?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course it's safe." He stood up, leaving. "You'll thank me later." Then he left, going back to wherever he and his sister had set up their beds.

Bessie shrugged and bit into the apple. Instantly, her mouth was filled with flavor. The apple glistened and dripped apple juice, plump and perfect. It was the most delicious apple Bessie had ever eaten.

A moment later, Flightless was coming over to the fire and sitting down. "G'morning," she said sleepily. 

"Morning, Beth. Where's Ic?"

"Asleep, and out like a light."

She nodded, taking another bite of her apple. "What are you going to have for breakfast?"

"Dunno. I'm not that hungry, I may just skip."

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Bessie reminded.

Flightless sighed. "I know, I know."

More people were waking up now, but it was still early, and they kept their voices down as they got ready for the day. A rarity, and it made Bessie wish she was still asleep. The one day people are quiet- she's awake.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream broke the quiet. Aviators jumped and sat up in bed, fully awake. Everyone looked around, what was going on? Who just shouted?

Then a woman sprinted into the campground from the forest, crying hysterically. People rushed over. Flightless got to her feet, Bessie close behind her. They went to where the group of people was surrounding the woman. Someone put their arm around her, speaking comfortingly. Others were panicked or demanding.

"What's going on?" Icarus asked, flying up beside Flightless and Bessie. His messy hair was even messier from sleep. A bruise had formed on his face, which Bessie took quick notice of.

"I don't know. What happened to your face?"

"I fell. Who screamed?"

Flightless pointed to the woman. She was taking shaky breaths, panting. "In... In the woods! There's- oh god, he's dead! He's dead, his body it's-" she dissolved into tears again, squeezing her eyes shut.

People looked frantically between each other, and some flew off into the forest. The three friends followed, everyone searching for the body that the woman had seen.

"Over here!" Somebody shouted.

The crowd flew over immediately. Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus had to push to get through and see who it was.

There hung Rowan Civil, dangling from a tree limb by a rope. One of the women pulled out a knife and cut him down, carrying him back to camp. The coroner took the body away, leaving everyone with question upon question.

Master Wool was told and the council had a brief meeting, and not long after the coroner came to a conclusion. The citizens of Gargathorne gathered, prepared to hear what happened to the ex-council member.

The coroner, a short, fretful, clever young man stood up before the crowd, calling for attention and beginning. "This morning, Rowan Civil was found in the woods, dead. After close examination of the body, I have come to the conclusion that his death was a suicide. Thank you."

"Why would he do that?" A woman called, indignant. 

"I can't know the mind of a dead man."

"But-"

"No more questions."

The crowd rippled as people turned to speak quietly to others before it dispersed. It wasn't suicide, that was obvious. Someone had murdered Rowan Civil, and it was clear who.

"Gregory Worthington!" Icarus said immediately to Flightless and Bessie as they walked off. "Gregory Worthington killed him for insulting him during his speech."

Bessie quickly jumped in. "Makes sense. But this morning Arthur Worthington told me he was feeling guilty about something. Maybe it was murdering Rowan Civil for being rude about his family. Arthur was there, he heard everything."

Icarus shook his head. "No, he was probably guilty about something else."

"What?"

"Never mind. Besides, Rowan was alive this morning, right?"

Flightless nodded. "I saw him when I woke up, he was across the camp tying a shoe. So Arthur hadn't killed him."

"Well, maybe he just felt guilty that he was going to kill him!" Bessie insisted.

Icarus rolled his eyes. "Then why would he have murdered him if he didn't want to?"

"I don't know, all the Worthingtons are messed up. Maybe it was some kind of psychotic way of trying to get his dad's approval. We all know Gregory's a killer, just everyone's too scared to talk about it because they know what will happen. Arthur may have been trying to impress his dad."

"Exactly, we know Gregory Worthington has paid people or has directly killed people before. It's not a coincidence that all the people that defy him to end up dead, no matter what the council says. The council's just as scared of him as everyone else and Master Wool is his friend. He probably doesn't care he's killing people."

Flightless cut them both off. "Guys, really? It's not Arthur. He's too nice."

Bessie put her hands on her hips. "You think he's nice?"

"No! Of course not! But he's still nice enough not to kill someone. Arthur's a bully and a complete jerk, but he's not a murderer." She defended. "It's obviously Gregory Worthington. Did you not hear what Rowan Civil said to him? He said, 'do your worst,' and so he did. And the way Gregory was acting? He was all cold and didn't start yelling he was just so... chilling. My guess is he hired someone to do it."

According to whispers and conversations overheard through the day, the rest of the aviators had come to the same conclusion, but no one dared to say anything. After all, no one wanted to be the next Rowan Civil.


	10. Chapter Ten

Ever since the death of Rowan Civil, people had been walking on eggshells. No one talked too loud or spoke to the Worthingtons aside from the Wools. Flightless, especially, was anxious.

It was the last day that they were on the ground and Flightless finally got to sleep in due to the hush in the aviators. When she did wake up, Icarus was sitting on his bed, leaning against the tree and reading. Flightless rolled off her branch and caught herself in the wind until she lowered to the laundry basket. The sweater that Icarus had loaned her a few days ago was clean again and she pulled it on. Technically, she had long sleeves packed. There were, like, fifteen flannels in her bag but since Arizona had taken her favorite one she had been in too bad of a mood to wear the other ones. Bessie said she saw Arizona toss it in the fire for kindling, and that made her saddest of all.

"Hey," Icarus greeted, "Hungry?"

"Starving."

He tossed her an apple that she fumbled, but caught.

Flightless pulled on her boots, biting into her breakfast and chewing as she laced them. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, finally," he laughed humorlessly.

"Your bruise is starting to get lighter."

"Thankfully. I looked for Bessie for a while but I couldn't find her. She's probably helping her mom with something."

Flightless nodded. "Probably. Whatcha reading?"

He didn't respond, just turned the cover so she could see it. Corse by Alivia Cuffaro.

"What's that about?"

"Romance."

"Sappy."

"Shut up."

Flightless sat down next to him, reading words over his shoulder but quickly got lost. He read much faster than her and would turn the page before she got a chance to finish. She sighed and ate her apple quietly while watching a bird hop around on a tree. It reminded her of Sunny. She had barely seen him lately despite the landing, but she knew that he was healthy again.

Flightless pushed herself up and walked off in search of Jude. She found him writing in his notebook by the fire, deep in thought.

"Jude?"

He flinched. "Oh, I'm sorry, I did not hear you approaching."

"No problem. Where's Sunny?"

"By my bed. I have not given him breakfast yet. Find him a worm or something before you go see him. There are a lot down by the stream."

"I don't want to go in the woods alone," she said sheepishly.

"Then take one of your friends. I am busy."

Flightless rolled her eyes but went back to Icarus, eventually convincing him to come with her. They found a worm pretty quickly and went to Sunny. He was happy to see them and ate the worm without protest. She changed the bandage on his wing and soon she was back at her tree and bored again. The day came and went, marked only by a visit to Sunny and Xavier trying to talk to Icarus but Flightless insisting he left until he listened.

The night was cold and Flightless shivered, drawing the blankets closer to her chin.

"B- Beth? You up?" Came Bessie's voice through chattering teeth.

"Yeah," she answered.

"Me, too."

"Me three..." Icarus groaned from his bed. "I think I'm going to freeze to death."

Bessie, ever the problem solver suggested, "Why don't we all huddle together. Save body heat."

"Anything to go to bed," Icarus said.

Flightless wrapped her blankets around her shoulders and flew down to Bessie's bed and threw them on Bessie, slipping beneath the covers. Icarus came next, wiggling in beside Flightless and tossing his blankets on theirs. That was triple the blankets they had before and soon they were able to drift into an uneasy sleep.

*

The next morning, they were all tangled together and exhausted.

"Ow, Beth, you're on my pinkie!"

"Sorry," she apologized, rolling over. They dragged themselves out of bed, shivering when their skin hit the morning air. They got ready for the day, Flightless feeling anxious again about the death that took place two days ago.

It was take off day and normally Flightless would be dreading the continuation of Migration, but it would be hard to get murdered while flying so she took comfort in that.

"Bessie, have you seen my sock?" Icarus asked, searching in his bags.

"Which one?"

"The blue one with white stripes. I can't find it."

"No, try in the blankets. Maybe you kicked it off in your sleep." Bessie folded up her clothes and put them in her bags, preparing for travel.

Icarus did as she said and soon found it, pulling it over his foot.

Flightless didn't have much to put away and was done first, hurrying to the fire and warming herself. It felt like heaven. As she sat there, she saw Gregory and Arizona Worthington approaching the fire to warm their hands.

"...I just think we're lagging. We need to outrun winter. We're not doing that, considering how cold it was last night." Arizona was saying to her father.

Gregory nodded. "You're right."

"Will you increase the pace?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes, I am just concerned about your mother. She's already having a hard enough time. Oh well. She'll just have to try harder."

Flightless felt sick to her stomach. Increase the pace? She caught Arizona's eye and for a moment she smirked. This was Arizona's way of choking her out. But what could she do? It was all up to Gregory.

Take off began an hour later, and people loosely arranged themselves in the proper formation, but it didn't matter, it was more for taking roll than anything else. Soon they were in the sky. The sun had warmed up the air quite a bit, which Flightless would have been thankful for if the faster pace hadn't been such an issue. She was tired. So were her friends. Bessie's mom had to take one of Bessie's bags due to her exhaustion.

"We need to be smarter about this," Mrs. Kennet told the kids, "We can't carry this much this fast and this long."

She was right. They dumped out things they didn't need and let them fall to the earth. Flightless begrudgingly dropped her books and poured out the extra pair of shoes she took. Their possessions tumbled down and disappeared beneath a canopy of trees far below.

Despite the relief of not carrying so many novels, Flightless was still slowing down, lagging behind the rest of the aviators. At times, her friends would fly back to her to talk but she just kept getting slower.

"Are you ok?" Icarus asked anxiously.

"I'm fine," she lied.

He ignored her and took one of the bags from her.

"Icarus! No, you're tired, too." She argued, trying to take it back.

He held it out of her reach. "No. You're more tired than I am."

She didn't fight him about it after that. It was nice to have one less thing to carry.

When they landed for lunch, Flightless barely went anywhere, just stuffing her face with strawberries on the ground. She didn't know how she was going to make it all the way to Gripethorne. The flight was just so far, even if she got there, they'd have to go back in the early spring and she could just as easily die on the way back.

"Flightless!" Jude called. He went up to her and crouched down. "How are you doing?"

"Tired. But I'm alive."

"Yes.." he paused, "I was thinking about what you said yesterday about not wanting to go into the forest alone. It was a wise instinct considering what happened to Rowan Civil. I have a gift for you."

He pulled out a brown paper package tied with yarn and handed it to her. She raised her eyebrows, wondering what if could be. The yarn was hard to untie, he had knotted it well but the paper tore easily. Inside was a pocket knife with a wooden handle and a sharp blade.

"I thought it would make you feel safer, and if you are in danger, maybe you could use it." Jude told her.

She smiled. "Thanks, Jude."

"You are welcome." He turned and left awkwardly, moving to the group of aviators that were about to take off. Flightless joined them and soon kicked off the ground and surged upward.

She may have had a knife to protect her from attackers, but the greatest danger was in Migration, and it was one that could not be avoided.

*

The aviators were moving into the early afternoon, and Flightless was feeling better after lunch, rest, and dumping the extra weight. The rest of the day seemed manageable, and she was sure she could make it for today.

She was in the middle of the group, her friends nearby and chatting when it happened.

Cassandra Worthington flew behind her husband and beside her children and no one had seen her slow down, but suddenly she just dropped from the sky like a shot bird. People shouted and dove to catch her. They carried her, unconscious, back to the group. Flight halted as everyone crowded around. Gregory, who hadn't made a single move to help her and didn't seem concerned, raised a brow.

"What's wrong with her?" someone asked.

The man holding her shook his head. "I don't know. She's really light. Maybe she's sick?"

A medic came forward and looked her over. He pulled her shirt aside to show her waist and rib cage, all skin and bone. Deep purple bruises decorated her frail figure and when he rolled her sleeves up cuts ran up and down her arm like rows in a cornfield.

No one said anything- just watched. Finally, the medic floated away from her. "I believe she has collapsed from exhaustion and malnutrition."

That much was obvious. People exchanged looks. Now what? Migration normally let people drop from the sky without sympathy, but this was different. Cassandra was the flight leader's wife. Should they let her drop?

Gregory answered that before anyone asked out loud. "If she cannot fly, she cannot fly. That's just how Migration is. Drop her."

The man holding her hesitated. Doing nothing as someone fell was one thing but being the one to actually drop her, and at the request of her husband? That was another. He looked disturbed and conflicted until Arizona pushed her way through. "Wait!"

Gregory raised an eyebrow in warning, but she didn't see him.

"I'll carry her."

She gently took her mother from the arms of the man who had caught her. Cassandra's head lolled back and forth limply and she didn't stir.

People drifted around awkwardly until Gregory sighed. "Alright, let's keep going."

He flew off, the rest of the flock following. They fell back how they had before, friends with friends and family with family. Flightless circled back to Bessie and Icarus, who looked disturbed.

"That was disgusting," Bessie ranted, "How could Gregory do that? Just tell them to drop his wife to her death? They're family!"

Icarus shrugged. "Being related isn't the same as being family. Family is a choice, relation is chance."

"He's right. Just because people are related doesn't mean they love each other. And we kind of pick our families. I mean, I don't have any relatives but you and Icarus and Jude and Sunny are all my family."

"Thanks. I just think it's sick."

"It is," Icarus agreed.

They said no more on the matter. Around them, other clusters of aviators gossiped and whispered. Who would have thought? Cassandra Worthington: flight leader's wife, rich and privileged beyond anyone's imagination, was anorexic- and depressed too, it seemed.

The only ones that were silent were the Worthingtons.

*

It was weird seeing Arizona since Cassandra's fall. Flightless had always thought of her as nothing more than a monster, but now she felt a bit guilty insulting her behind her back. Maybe it was her maturing, maybe it was just hard to glare hatefully at someone spoon-feeding their half-dead mother.

Either way, Cassandra's fall had affected her. Arizona was always so busy with taking care of her mother or doing chores Cassandra normally did that she didn't pay any attention to Flightless. A break from the bullying was nice, so the three friends were enjoying it while it lasted.

Sunny was benefiting from it, too. He used to get lonely because Jude would give Grace or Flightless most of his attention, but since Flightless wasn't busy dodging Arizona, she would carry him during flight sometimes.

Grace Palmer, however, was not positively affected. She was worried out of her mind, checking in on Arizona and Cassandra every half hour and didn't seem to think of much else. Jude tried to get her to relax and focus on something else, but truth be told there wasn't much else to focus on.

It made life harder for Arthur, too. Arizona was always busy and she was his best friend. Normally, when he got bored, he'd go harass other kids but things had been different since he beat up Icarus Reign. Something about the interaction bugged him. He'd beat up Icarus a bit in the past, but this was further than he had ever gone before. It felt crueler. He just kept seeing his foot kicking Icarus over and over again.

Arthur wasn't sure how to address the situation. He'd never felt guilty about anything, aside from that one time he broke Arizona's doll when they were six. What was he supposed to do? Ignore it? Justify it? He didn't know.

Arthur sighed and flew over to his sister. She was focused on the horizon, occasionally glancing down at her mother, who looked vacantly at the clouds, not saying a word.

"Ari, hey!" He called.

She looked startled until she saw who it was and breathed a sigh of relief. "Artie, hey. I thought you were Father for a minute."

"Is he mad at you about..." he gestured to Cassandra.

She shrugged. "Kind of. I don't think he cares that much, so long as I don't bother him about it."

He nodded solemnly before changing the topic. "Hey, so I beat up Icarus Reign the other day."

She waited for him to say more, but he didn't. "Ok? And?"

"And I feel bad about it."

Arizona raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I don't know! I just do. And it keeps nagging at me. I feel like it was a bit too mean. He's an annoying goose, but I was a jerk. How do I make it stop?"

"If you really feel that bad, apologize. But I don't think it's that big of a deal. He's not worth the effort."

"Thanks, Ari."

"Yeah, sure."

Arthur swooped back to survey the aviators. He spotted Icarus beside Flightless, sharing some bread with her. He dove down and pulled up alongside Icarus. Icarus and Flightless backed up.

"What do you want?" Icarus asked, handing the rest of the bread to Flightless and turning so that he was fully in between the two of them.

Arthur sighed. "Can we talk?" A pause. "Alone?"

Flightless grabbed Icarus's arm. "Don't."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna hurt him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" She challenged.

Arthur shrugged.

"It's fine, Beth," he told her, "go find Bessie."

"What? No!"

"It's fine," he promised.

She hesitated but left. Not after giving him a long, deliberate look of warning, firth, of course.

When she was out of earshot, Arthur sighed and fiddled this thumbs. "I wanted to apologize to you."

That was not what Icarus was expecting.

"I was particularly mean to you, I took it too far. So, sorry."

It wasn't an award-winning apology, but it was more than Icarus had ever received from him before. "Oh. Okay. That's... really nice, actually."

Arthur shrugged. "It's whatever. Look, I'm just going to go. Bye."

He flew off awkwardly to go find someone he was more comfortable talking to, like Arizona. Lately, he'd been relying on her more for conversation. Normally, their relationship was built on teamwork and partnership. They worked for common goals together as equals. In all separate situations, each twin wanted to have control over them, but when they were together it was the only time that leadership was split. It was never very affectionate and love was never expressed, but it was the best he had ever known. Sometimes he wanted to connect with her better, bring them closer and more like the families that he saw around Gargathorne but he had lots on his plate with training to be an aerial stunt artist, trying to comfort his mother (a duty that frequently fell to him), and studying. Most of his day was consumed and when it wasn't, she was busy or bullying someone, so he'd join. Even if he were to try, he'd have no idea where to start and he'd never had an affectionate relationship before, so he wasn't sure what to do either.

Arthur sighed and checked his watch. It was gold. Arizona had given it to him for his 12th birthday and it came in handy. They'd be landing soon for dinner and making camp for the night. He felt sleepy and a bit exhausted from the flight that day, so he was thankful when his father led the aviators downwards to the ground.

The rain they'd been trying to outrun started, drizzly at first. The pine canopy was thick but it wasn't keeping them dry. Lewis Vane was struggling to keep the fire lit and eventually gave up, going to his family. Arthur jogged through the trees collecting branches that had fallen and sometimes tearing them off the trees. The rain became harder, and he jetted back to camp, making a makeshift shelter. It wasn't super dry but it would do. 

Other people seemed to have the same idea, and many huddled under branches together. Arthur put his bags under some more branches to keep them as dry as possible and crawled in. It was too small to properly lay down, so he bent his knees and only extended his thighs. He listened to the sound of the rain as he fell asleep.

The shower soon turned into a storm, and at a crack of thunder, he jumped and woke up. It was loud thunder, some of the loudest he'd ever heard. Lightning flashed and the wind whipped, pulling parts of his shelter apart. The thunder rumbled again and he drew his knees close to his chest, curling into the fetal position. Arthur hated thunder. He almost never cried, but tonight he was biting his lips as tears flowed, mixing with rainwater and dripping off his face.

*

The next morning, the camp was in complete disarray. Bags were missing, People were soaked, no one had slept well, and everything was wet. Everyone was covered in water and mud, and one by one they went out into the woods to find a source of water. A river was found and people stripped, left their clothes to dry on rocks, and dove in. There comes a point when you are so dirty, so tired, and so bitter that modesty and pride have gone completely out the window and no one cares. The citizens of Gargathorne had passed that point somewhere around two o'clock in the morning.

Flightless scrubbed her skin till it was raw and only then did she drag herself out of the river. Everyone's towels were wet, so people sat on rocks and air-dried, pulling brushes or fingers through their hair. Flightless sat down beside Bessie, glaring at nothing.

"You look like a raccoon with those dark circles under your eyes." Bessie joked.

Flightless was not in the mood. She had gotten too little sleep to find humor in anything. "Right back at you."

"Is it that bad?" Bessie asked worriedly, running a hand under her eyes as if she could feel them.

"Yes."

Bessie didn't ask any more questions and Flightless didn't stop glaring.

When they were dry, they pulled back on their clothes that had dried in the sun and made their way back to camp. Icarus didn't come back from the river for another 20 minutes, and when he did, he looked no more enthused than they felt. 

"I hate everything."

It was a pretty good summary.

*

During the flight, people held their blankets and clothes out one by one to let them dry in the wind. It worked alright, and by the next night, things were back to normal.

Flightless wasn't doing much as Jude walked up.

"Hey," she greeted, yawning.

Jude crossed his arms. "We need to talk about you stealing from Arizona Worthington."

Her heart sank. She thought that that had blown over, but she should have known that Jude wouldn't let it slip. He valued honesty, and this fell under that category. "Oh."

"You are grounded from seeing your friends tomorrow."

"What?" she cried, "That's ridiculous! I'm already bored enough during flight. What am I supposed to do?"

"Think about what you did and why it is wrong."

"No, Jude, please!"

He sighed. "You can fly with Grace and me if you want, but you cannot see them. Understood?"

She grit her teeth. "Yeah."

"Good." He seemed satisfied. "I will see you tomorrow, then." With that, he left.

Bessie poked her head out from a branch above Flightless. "That was ridiculous!"

Flightless startled. "Oh, hey. I didn't know you were up there."

She nodded, scowling. "I mean, sure, you shouldn't have stolen from Arizona, but now Icarus and I are going to only have each other to talk to, and you know we fight after an hour of conversation."

Flightless shrugged. "I know. Nothing I can do."

The rest of the night was spent grumbling about Jude and how stupid Migration was. Soon, though, Gargathorne slept.

*

Jude was the worst person to fly with. He spent most of his time listening to Grace Palmer and when he was talking it was about the weather, the economy, or politics.

Flightless blew a puff of air out of her cheeks in exasperation. She rolled onto her back and let the wind carry her while she looked up at the clouds, trying to find shapes. Unfortunately, most of them were stratus or cirrus and they just looked like sheets of thin paper.

Sunny was in her arms, and he stood up on her stomach to look around. Flightless could tell he was happy to let the wind ruffle his feathers see the endless horizon. It reminded him of the days when he could fly. Flightless couldn't imagine being him. Birds fly, that's just how nature worked. And he was the minority that couldn't. She had been in that spot before, but what was hard for her to think about was how he used to be so free, soaring wherever he wanted and being happy. Then it was all taken away. It was hard enough for her to wish for flight when she had never done it before. To have it and then get it taken away seemed much worse.

Flightless put a hand on his back to steady him, and the blackbird squawked in contentment. She glanced over at Jude, who was deep in conversation with Grace about Thomas Wool and whether or not he would be a good Master when he grew up.

She rolled her eyes. Politics- again.

"Jude?" she interrupted.

He flinched like he had forgotten she was there. "Do not interrupt, it is rude."

"Sorry," she said unapologetically, "I just wanted to know if you would finally talk to me. You've been giving all your attention to Council Palmer."

Jude sighed. "We are busy, Flightless."

"Oh, it's fine," Grace reassured him, "I can go."

"No, no!" He protested, "She can go. Flightless you are ungrounded."

Her eyes lit up and she didn't ask questions. Holding onto Sunny, she spun and went to go find Bessie and Icarus.

Jude loved her, but he was glad she was gone. "Sorry, Grace."

"It's alright. Why was she grounded?"

"Uh-"

"Oh I'm sorry, that was a prying question. Nevermind." She blushed and turned away quickly, brushing a strand of soft blonde hair back behind her ear.

Jude laughed nervously. "It's no big deal."

He felt his hands sweat and his stomach twist. It confused him, the strange feeling. Eventually, he identified it as nervousness. He brushed it off. He was just nervous that Grace had asked about the thievery. Yes, that was it.

"I miss Gargathorne," she said sadly. "The bakery had the most delicious macaroons. I'd get a box every week. The best were the lemon ones. They stopped making them a week or so before Migration to make bread in bulk. What I wouldn't give for a macaroon right now..."

She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Jude, but he didn't mind. He just liked studying her features and hearing her voice. "What else?"

"The Medic's Center. I miss the halls and the people. It was nice to feel like I was helping or like I had a purpose. Migration is just flying. There's no good in that. And I miss the smell. Like in summer, on sunny days, you can smell the grass and the field and the wheat. Or in spring when it's so clean and bright. Autumn, too, with that crisp apple smell when the orchard is at its peak. I miss my house, too. I like the welcome mat and my bed and the furniture. Not to mention the roof. I don't know, I just always feel lonely during Migration. Gripethorne is ok, though. It's not great but I can make it until I return home again. And I get to work at the other Medic's Center." She blinked like she was just brought back to reality. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to ramble."

"No, it was nice," Jude assured her, examining her brown eyes and the fleck of gold in them.

Maybe he wasn't nervous about the thievery after all.

*

Flightless, Bessie, and Icarus tossed around a ball to keep themselves entertained. Sunny, who had crawled into Flightless's backpack, poked his head out and watched quietly.

Bessie caught the ball and tossed it up. Icarus zoomed upwards and caught it. He dropped it down to Flightless. It went past her but she released her hold on the wind to fall down towards the ball, then used it to push her down. She wrapped her arms around it and barely got the wind to catch her and take her back up.

"Close one," Bessie commented. "Pass it to me."

Flightless threw it to her, and she grabbed it, sending it back to Flightless, who sent it to Icarus.

"Hey, Bess, how's Muffin?"

She glared at the ball as Icarus passed it to her. "Ugh. Fine. She's just as mean, old, and ugly as ever."

"She's not ugly!" Icarus defended.

"Ic, she's got two different eyes and she's half-blind in the yellow one. Her fur is muddy brown and orange. She howls like a wounded hyena when she is hungry, she's as old as dirt, and scrawny."

"Maybe you should feed her more."

"We do," Bessie said, "she's just boney. And she kills, like, ten mice per week. She never eats them, she just... kills for fun."

"She's got you there," Flightless pointed out. "You can't deny she's a murderer. I have a scar on my wrist from when I first tried to pet her."

Icarus looked indignant. "I want to go see her."

Bessie shrugged. "My mom's got her."

Icarus returned quickly, Muffin in his arms. Her typical glare was gone, and she had her eyes closed, purring as Icarus scratched right behind her whiskers- her favorite spot.

Bessie looked at the cat warily and put the small ball back in her bag. "Don't bring her near me."

Muffin rolled around in Icarus's arms, showing her tummy so he could rub it. Her paws curled in delight and sometimes her purr would become a squeak. She batted Icarus's sweatshirt strings, trying to bite them. 

"She's adorable!" Icarus cooed, "How can you hate her?"

"I don't hate her. If mom and I hated her we'd give her away," said Bessie.

Flightless scoffed. "Who'd take her?"

"Probably Icarus. And if not him, Grace Palmer. She loves animals. She's already got two cats, right?"

Flightless nodded. "And three rabbits, two birds, and a dog. She has a carrier bring them for her since she can't hold them all. The rabbits are Pip, Baby, and Fluff. Her birds are Charlie and Coco. The cats are Whiskers and Cassie. And the dog's Lucky."

Bessie and Icarus didn't say anything for a moment. Then Bessie asked, "Why do you know that?"

"Jude never shuts up about her and I had to listen to her talk about them for two hours this morning. Trust me, I didn't go out of my way to memorize their names."

Icarus smiled knowingly. "I think Jude likes her."

"Um, duh, they're best friends."

"No, as in more than friends. It makes sense. She's pretty for being in her forties, she's nice, they do stuff together, and he talks about her all the time."

"If it were anyone else, I'd agree with you," she responded, "but Jude is completely incapable of positive human emotion."

"Maybe. We'll see, I guess."

*

Arthur Worthington ran a hand through his slightly curly blond hair. It was greasy and he cringed, knowing he needed to take a bath soon. He probably smelled, too. A quick sniff confirmed that theory.

For now, though, dinner was the most important thing to him. The weather was mild but he drew near to the fire as he ate, watching the sparks fly up once in a while. One of the logs slipped a bit, pushing an ember out of the fire. It glowed faintly beside him and he watched as it dimmed. Someone was walking in his direction barefoot and he quickly jumped up to stop them.

He grabbed the person's shoulders to stop them. They jumped in surprise and shrank back. He looked up and saw Bessie in front of him, glaring with more intensity than the fire. "What do you want?"

He pointed down. "You were going to step on that."

The ember was glowing less, but it still was red. She took a step back. "Oh. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

He plopped back down on the grass in front of the fire. Bessie continued on her way, carefully stepping around the ember.

When he'd finished eating he went to his bed and bags, rifling through them to get a change of clothes. The sun had just dipped below the trees and he found it calming to walk through the forest in the fresh twilight air. There was a river about fifteen minutes of flight away from the camp. Normally, his father would bring the group closer to a river when he spotted one, but Gregory had wanted a more open area for the smoke from the fire and there weren't any that close.

Arthur jumped up into the sky and wove through the trees, flipping over things, going between branches, darting under some, and whizzing around trunks. He made it to the river in only twelve minutes thanks to his superior flying, but Arizona could probably do it in nine. That was something the twins never talked about- accomplishments. Arthur was the best in his sport and Arizona was second best at racing. The only one that could beat her was their father. Sometimes it felt like they were competing against each other but most of the time it didn't, thanks to them choosing completely different sports. Still, they were both determined to be the best and it could cause friction.

He set his clothes on a rock, not trusting the pine branches no to have sap on them and undressed. His whole body shivered as he got in the water, so he cleaned as quickly as he could.

Fireflies had come out this time of night and were blinking their tails. In the background, from no distinguishable direction, was a symphony of crickets. It was serene and when Arthur climbed out of the cool water to dry off, he was able to appreciate the beauty of it all. Sometimes he would look around at him and think about the world. Deep, philosophical things mostly. 

His father frequently had dinners with council members or Master Wool back at Worthington Manor. Once in awhile, Arthur would be permitted to join his father and the guest. Arthur could remember one time Grace Palmer and Amber Browse had been there. They had started talking about politics but when Council Browse criticized Grace's opinions and started to bring religion into it, they had gotten into a brief argument. He'd never been exposed to anything religious before. Since then he wondered. 

That night as he looked around the river at the simple beauty of nature, he decided there was a God. But not a loving one like Grace had said at that dinner many years ago. An indifferent one. Otherwise, life would be a lot better. For a moment it made him sad, but he accepted it for what it was fairly quickly. He pulled on his clothes and draped the towel around his shoulders, flying back to camp. This time, it was a slow, thoughtful flight. He knew he was a bully, and most of the time he didn't care. But tonight he was in an empathetic, reflective mood.

He asked himself why he did the things he did. It was only to get authority. He wanted to be in control of every situation because if he had the power, no one could make him feel small like his father had so many times before.

If he had power, then he wouldn't get hurt.

*

"Halfway to Gripethorne. Halfway. We're almost there, basically. I can do that. It's fine. I'm fine. It's all fine." Flightless said to herself. Maybe if she said it enough she'd actually believe it.

Icarus slumped. "We still have half of the trip to go."

"But we finished the first half. Glass half full."

"We're all going to die." he groaned.

Flightless said, "We're not going to die," in response to Icarus, but mostly to assure herself.

"Yes, we are."

"No, we aren't."

"We're going to fall behind and be stranded in the wilderness all alone and then food will run out and we'll starve to death or get eaten by wild animals. That is- if we don't faint from exhaustion and plummet to our deaths first."

Flightless grimaced. "No, we won't. I won't let you fall behind. If you pass out, we'll carry you as we did before. And I won't let you get too far behind us. I'll drag you if I have to."

"Yeah, if you're not dead already." He cried dramatically.

She glared at him. "Thanks for the faith in me."

"You bet."

"Well if I'm dead, Bessie will help you."

Icarus laughed bitterly. "Yeah, or she'll be dead already, too."

"As if. She's the best flier out of all of us."

"Yeah, but she still really bad at it. We're the worst aviators in all of Gargathorne. So her best still isn't average. You'll die first and you'll probably get stranded in the woods and then I'll hopefully pass out and the fall will kill me. Better than starving to death. Then Bessie will be sad and stressed so she'll fly worse and eventually she'll die too. I stand by my original claim. We're all going to die."

"Someone's a ray of sunshine this morning. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"No, no I didn't. Know why? Because I don't have a bed. Instead, I woke up on a rock, if you were curious and now my back feels like I've been stabbed."

Flightless tried not to laugh, but when Icarus was angry he became such a drama queen that it was hard not to find humor in his complaining.

"What are you smiling at?"

She immediately stopped and switched back to good-friend-mode. "No reason. I'm sorry you woke up on a rock."

He huffed and let his arms dangle lazily as he flew. "Know what else?"

"Hmm?"

"My neck hurts because we all fly horizontal and I've been lifting my head to look ahead as well as turning my neck to look at you and Bessie when we're talking. So now, I've been doing it so much the muscles are cramping and I think my head is going to fall off."

"Why don't you fly at an angle? Everyone else does. Be kind of horizontal but also, like... not."

"That was a genius explanation and idea. Why didn't I think of that? Because, if you fly like that there's more wind resistance and you use more energy."

He had a point. "Try lying on your back for a little while."

He sighed dramatically and rolled over, arms crossed over his chest. "I hate Migration."

"I know," she consoled, "It sucks. Well, I'm going to go find Bessie..." When Icarus got like this, she had learned that it was best just to give him space for a while and he'd be back to his normal level of drama.

Bessie looked troubled. She was flying close to her mom, staring down. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded faintly. "Yeah. It's just that this is the part of Migration when my dad died."

Flightless looked down at the treetops. She had never met Robert Kennet, Bessie's father, but she felt sad suddenly too.

*

Martha gasped. "You did what?"

"I renounced my family. They said I couldn't be with you because you were not born rich."

"But we have no money, Robbie, what will happen?" Martha wrung her hands together anxiously.

He shrugged. "We'll make money."

"How?" she cried hopelessly.

"I don't know. How about we make a candy shop?"

"That's ridiculous, it'll never work. Oh god, Rob, we can't afford a house or clothes or food..."

"I'll get a job at the dairy barn. It's going to be okay, honey, I promise."

Tears flooded Martha's eyes. "You're so stupid."

"I love you too."

She threw her arms around him and he picked her up, holding her close as she cried, both in joy and sorrow.

*

Martha and Robert stood closely. He gently took her hands and smiled down at her. She blushed and couldn't help but smile back. Jude Humpback stood away from them, watching. The pastor opened his book and began to read.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Martha Taylor and Robert Kennet in holy matrimony..."

The night was dark and they were standing in the middle of a field, no family present, and no white dress, but they wouldn't have it any other way. The stars shone down, witnesses to the wedding. Martha watched them twinkle in his eyes. Behind them, you could still make out the rich brown and the gold flecks.

Vows were exchanged, the couple kissed, and that was all.

The Kennets held hands as they walked back to their small house above Robert and Martha's Candy Shoppe.

*

"Robbie, sit down."

Martha's husband sat down on the couch beside his wife. "Yes?"

"I have something to tell you. Something unexpected."

Martha took slow breaths. Deep down, she knew Robert would never leave her but the doubt that he was ready for what she was about to say ate at her.

"I'm... well, I'm pregnant."

Robert's eyes widened. He said nothing and Martha felt her heart sink.

Suddenly, he burst into the biggest smile Martha had ever seen. His eyes filled with tears and he gently put a hand on her stomach. "I... I'm gonna be a dad!"

Martha sighed and grinned, tearing up also. "Yeah. Yeah, you are."

*

"Ready?" Robert asked.

Martha nodded. Her infant daughter slept in her arms, tiny fists closed and eyes like her father's blinking up at her parents. The last thing Martha wanted to do was let a carrier take her daughter to Gripethorne, but she knew it was what's best. Carefully, she handed the woman her baby.

Robert put a hand on their daughter. "Bye-bye, Margaret, I love you."

The woman left and Martha sighed. "Her first Migration, already. She's getting older so fast. I want her to just stay little forever."

Robert smirked. "Hey, when we get back to Gargathorne, maybe we can try for a second."

Martha smacked his arm. "Robert!"

*

Martha Kennet looked up at the sign above her store.

Robert and Martha's Candy Shoppe.

She was so stony and calm, but she tore the sign down with the force of a hurricane and lost her composure. Robert, who had been murdered for reasons unknown during the flight back to Gargathorne, was gone. Martha sobbed and sobbed among the splintered, broken sign.

*

Margaret Bessie Kennet walked inside Martha's Candy Shoppe. "Mama?"

Martha didn't look up from dough that she was kneading for bread. "Yes, honey?"

"I want to go by my middle name."

Her mother raised an eyebrow but didn't turn around to face Bessie. "Why?"

"I just do."

Martha shrugged. "Alright. Run upstairs and get some more chocolates, would you? The store's running low."

Bessie turned to go but paused at the base of the stairs. "Mama?

"Hmm?"

"What happened to daddy?"

Silence settled over the Kennet house like a wet blanket. Martha Kennet stopped kneading the dough.

"Mama?"

Martha regained her usual calmness and took a shaky breath. She turned around to look at Bessie. "I'll tell you when you're older. Go get the chocolates like I asked."

Bessie didn't seem to mind her question not being answered and jogged up the stairs. Her footsteps echoed in Martha's mind like each stab that had gone into her husband's body.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Stab.

Stab.

Stab.

*

The aviators stopped for the night, this time in an open plain. A large pond was in the center, so people had settled down around it. The pond water didn't seem clean, but it was too late to change their minds.

Flightless had been so thirsty, she didn't care and drank it anyway. Gregory Worthington had decided that there would be another break for two days. This was a blessing from above because Bessie had been really struggling to keep going. lately

Flightless found branches and shoved them deep in the ground until they were sturdy, then tied her blanket over it to form a roof. It wouldn't keep out bugs, but if it rained she might be a little drier. Also, it was starting to get warmer the further south they went and she may want to get out of the sun.

People slept soundly, and the next morning most were well-rested. 

Flightless awoke later than normal and squinted in the light. She felt nauseous and crampy, so she put her arms around her abdomen. Maybe it was that time of the month, but she didn't think so, that had just ended.

Maybe she just needed to eat. She lugged herself out of bed and opened her bag to drag out an apple and bit into it. The apple was a bit old, but she ate around the brown spots. She felt no better afterward, maybe even worse.

Icarus was talking to Bessie in the mild weather by the pond. He glanced back and saw that she was awake. With an, "I'll be right back," to Bessie, he went over to Flightless. "Morning."

She groaned in response.

"How are you tired? You slept in really late." he laughed.

She winced. "It's not that. I just don't feel good."

Icarus frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nauseous."

"Did you eat?"

"Yeah."

"Was it too much?"

"No."

"Have you gone to the bathroom recently?"

Flightless sat up. "Oh. No, I haven't, actually."

Icarus looked proud of himself as if he had just made medical history. He went back to Bessie and Flightless hobbled off away from the crowd, arm pressed against her stomach and roll of toilet paper in her hand.

She knew something was wrong when there was blood in her stool.

Flightless went back to camp, shaking. She meant to get all the way to the pond but her energy ran out and she laid down under her shelter. Weakly, she called out for her friends. Icarus went back.

"Better?"

She shook her head, shivering. "No. Something's really wrong. Get Jude!"

Icarus could tell she was serious and flew off as quickly as he could.

Jude was by her side in no time. "What's wrong?"

"I- I don't know. It's bad, Jude it's bad..."

"Icarus," Jude told the boy, "go get Grace Palmer."

Soon enough Grace was there. She sent the boys away and pressed a hand to Flightless's forehead. "You definitely have a fever. How do you feel?"

Flightless explained her symptoms miserably.

Grace nodded. "Did you eat anything growing around here? Mushrooms? Plants?"

She shook her head. 

"How about alcohol? I won't be mad, just tell the truth." Grace promised.

"No, no alcohol."

Grace looked around thoughtfully until she spotted the pond. "Flightless, did you drink any of the water from the pond?"

"Yeah, some."

Grace sighed. "Dysentery."

"Am I gonna die?"

"No, you won't die. Not on my watch. I'm going to go clean some water. Stay here and rest," Grace instructed. She left, collecting water and boiling it over the fire to kill the bacteria. When she had finished, she returned. "Let it cool, and then drink it."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

Grace sat further away, opening up a bag of medical supplies. The advancements made in medicine recently were profound, and she was soon muttering to herself about chemicals, some of which Flightless caught, some she did not. 

Grace spent hours bent over her bag full of medicine components, herbs, and supplies, heating things and mixing them to make a cure for Flightless. 

By the time the sun was dipping in the sky, Grace had finished her tireless work and administered the medicine. It was impressive and fast- Flightless was shocked that she knew the formula for the antibiotics from memory. 

That night was still difficult, but Flightless could rest assured that she wouldn't die from dysentery. 

*

It takes up to four weeks to recover from dysentery. Flightless needed five. 

During those five weeks, she was dropping from exhaustion every night and Jude even had to carry her for a while. It seemed like the chances of survival got slimmer every day. It was one crisis after the next like some ugly, choppy timeline of destruction. 

Even Arizona seemed tired when the group landed. Granted, tired for Arizona meant that she didn't fly anymore once she was on the ground, but still, she was more exhausted than usual. 

Cassandra Dew was being treated by Grace Palmer, but it was hard since she didn't like being touched by anyone other than Arizona and Arthur, it seemed. Grace couldn't even get her an IV when they were grounded. Through it all, though, Cassandra never spoke. In fact, Flightless realized that she had never heard Cassandra Worthington speak. 

Normally, when Flightless would see a Worthington, they'd be wearing a scowl. But whenever she saw them with Cassandra, their faces were blank and eyes stony. There was more to the Worthingtons that met the eye, and Flightless was determined to know what. 

Of course, there were theories. After Cassandra's fall, people talked. It wasn't like they had anything better to do. The biggest one so far was that Cassandra Worthington was sick and dying but the family didn't want other people to know that. 

There were others, too. The town Witch had cursed her, her children kept trying to murder her, or Flightless's personal favorite: a magical snake must have bitten her when they were landed and it was gradually sucking away her life force so that it could begin to consume everything in its path. 

Anyone with half a brain could piece together what was really happening, though. Maybe not with details, but it was clear that secrets and darkness in the Worthington family ran deeper than they knew. 

Once, Bessie talked to Arthur and wished his mother well, but he didn't respond, just stared icily at the sky. 

The Council wanted to intervene, but Gregory Worthington was incredibly powerful. Not only was he flight leader, but everyone was scared of him, he was incredibly wealthy, and he was Master Wool's right-hand man. 

And, as the Council said, they didn't technically know for certain what had happened to Cassandra. The only council members that seemed to have an issue with that were Grace and Jude, but they kept to themselves. The last thing Cassandra needed in such a fragile state was for her doctor to be heavily distracted or dead. 

Sometimes, when Grace was busy, she had to take care of Cassandra and Flightless at the same time. Flightless hated watching Grace try to get Cassandra to speak or eat. All she ever did was look up at Grace with those dead green eyes. Cassandra Worthington was a walking corpse. 

Arizona cared for her each night, though, making sure she was clean and brushing her thin blonde hair, which was falling out fast. She could even get a flicker of life into Cassandra's eyes if she took her to watch the sunrise and sunset. The only thing Arizona could not do was get Cassandra to eat. 

No one could do that. They watched in pity as Cassandra continued to wither away.


End file.
